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IN  PRESS. 


A  PRESENT  HEAVEN. 

BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOE. 


TICKNOR  AND  FIELDS,  Publishers. 


THE 


Patience  of  Hope 


THE  AUTHOR  OF  “A  PRESENT  HEAVEN” 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION 

B  Y 

JOHN  G.  WHITTIER 


ET  TENEO  ET  TENEOR 


BOSTON 

TICKNOR  AND  FIELDS 

1862 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1862,  by 
TICKNOR  AND  FIELDS, 
in  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


SECOND  EDITION. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS; 
Welch,  Bigelow,  and  Company, 
Cambridge. 


C-o-yS.  2, 


Introduction. 

HERE  are  men  who,  irrespective  of 
the  names  by  which  they  are  called 
in  the  Babel  confusion  of  sects,  are 
endeared  to  the  common  heart  of 
Christendom.  Our  doors  open  of  their  own 
accord  to  receive  them.  For  in  them  we  feel 
that  in  some  faint  degree,  and  with  many  lim¬ 
itations,  the  Divine  is  again  manifested  :  some¬ 
thing  of  the  Infinite  Love  shines  out  of  them ; 
their  very  garments  have  healing  and  fragrance 
borrowed  from  the  bloom  of  Paradise.  So  of 
books.  There  are  volumes  which  perhaps  con¬ 
tain  many  things,  in  the  matter  of  doctrine  and 
illustration,  to  which  our  reason  does  not  assent, 
but  which  nevertheless  seem  permeated  with  a 
certain  sweetness  and  savor  of  life.  They  have 
the  Divine  seal  and  imprimatur ;  they  are  fra¬ 
grant  with  heart’s-ease  and  asphodel ;  tonic  with 
the  leaves  which  are  for  the  healing  of  the  na- 


VI 


INTRODUCTION. 


tions.  The  meditations  of  the  devout  monk  of 
Kempen  are  the  common  heritage  of  Catholic 
and  Protestant ;  our  hearts  burn  within  us  as  we 
walk  with  Augustine  under  Numidian  fig-trees 
in  the  gardens  of  Verecundus;  Fenelon  from 
his  bishop’s  palace,  and  John  Woolman  from 
his  tailor’s  shop,  speak  to  us  in  the  sariie  lan¬ 
guage.  The  unknown  author  of  that  book 
which  Luther  loved  next  to  his  Bible,  the 
“  Theologia  Germanica”  is  just  as  truly  at 
home  in  this  present  age,  and  in  the  ultra  Prot¬ 
estantism  of  New  England,  as  in  the  heart  of 
Catholic  Europe,  and  in  the  fourteenth  century. 
For  such  books  know  no  limitations  of  time 
or  place ;  they  have  the  perpetual  freshness  and 
fitness  of  truth ;  they  speak  out  of  profound 
experience :  heart  answers  to  heart  as  we  read 
them ;  the  spirit  that  is  in  man,  and  the  inspira¬ 
tion  that  giveth  understanding,  bear  witness  to 
them.  The  bent  and  stress  of  their  testimony 
are  the  same,  whether  written  in  this  or  a  past 
century,  by  Catholic  or  Quaker :  self-renuncia¬ 
tion, —  reconcilement  to  the  Divine  will  through 
simple  faith  in  the  Divine  goodness,  and  the 
love  of  it  which  must  needs  follow  its  recogni¬ 
tion, —  the  life  of  Christ  made  our  own  by  self- 
denial  and  sacrifice,  and  the  fellowship  of  his 
suffering  for  the  good  of  others,  —  the  indwell- 


INTRODUCTION. 


Vll 

ing  Spirit,  leading  into  all  truth,  —  the  Divine 
Word  nigh  us,  even  in  our  hearts.  They  have 
little  to  do  with  creeds,  or  schemes  of  doctrine, 
or  the  partial  and  inadequate  plans  of  salvation 
invented  by  human  speculation  and  ascribed  to 
Him  who  —  it  is  Sufficient  to  know  —  is  able 
to  save  unto  the  uttermost  all  who  trust  in  him. 
They  insist  upon  simple  faith  and  holiness  of 
life,  rather  than  rituals  or  modes  of  worship ; 
they  leave  the  merely  formal,  ceremonial,  and 
temporal  part  of  religion  to  take  care  of  itself, 
and  earnestly  seek  for  the  substantial,  the  neces¬ 
sary,  and  the  permanent. 

With  these  legacies  of  devout  souls,  it  seems 
to  me,  the  little  volume  herewith  presented  is 
not  wholly  unworthy  of  a  place.  It  assumes 
the  life  and  power  of  the  Gospel  as  a  matter  of 
actual  experience  ;  it  bears  unmistakable  evidence 
of  a  realization,  on  the  part  of  its  author,  of  the 
truth,  that  Christianity  is  not  simply  historical 
and  traditional,  but  present  and  permanent,  with 
its  roots  in  the  infinite  past  and  its  branches  in 
the  infinite  future,  the  eternal  spring  and  growth 
of  Divine  love  ;  not  the  dying  echo  of  words 
uttered  centuries  ago,  never  to  be  repeated,  but 
God’s  good  tidings  spoken  afresh  in  every  soul, 
—  the  perennial  fountain  and  unstinted  outflow 
of  wisdom  and  goodness,  forever  old  and  forever 


Vlll 


INTRODUCTION. 


new.  It  is  a  lofty  plea  for  patience,  trust,  hope, 
and  holy  confidence,  under  the  shadow,  as  well 
as  in  the  light,  of  Christian  experience,  whether 
the  cloud  seems  to  rest  on  the  tabernacle,  or 
moves  guidingly  forward.  It  is  perhaps  too  ex¬ 
clusively  addressed  to  those  who  minister  in  the 
inner  sanctuary,  to  be  entirely  intelligible  to  the 
vaster  number  who  wait  in  the  outer  courts  ; 
it  overlooks,  perhaps,  too  much  the  solidarity 
and  oneness  of  humanity  ;  *  but  all  who  read 
it  will  feel  its  earnestness,  and  confess  to  the 
singular  beauty  of  its  style,  the  strong,  steady 
march  of  its  argument,  and  the  wide  and  varied 
learning  which  illustrates  it.  To  use  the  lan¬ 
guage  of  one  of  its  reviewers  in  the  Scottish 
press :  — 

“  Beauty  there  is  in  the  book ;  exquisite 
glimpses  into  the  loveliness  of  nature  here  and 
there  shine  out  from  its  lines,  —  a  charn^want- 
ing  which  j  meditative  writing  always  seems  to 
have  a  defect ;  beautiful  gleams,  too,  there  are 
of  the  choicest  things  of  art,  and  frequent  allu¬ 
sions  by  the  way  to  legend  or  picture  of  the 
religious  past  5  so  that,  while  you  read,  you 


*  “  The  good  are  not  so  good  as  I  once  thought,  nor  the  bad 
so  evil,  and  in  all  there  is  more  for  grace  to  make  advantage  of, 
and  more  to  testify  for  God  and  holiness,  than  I  once  believed.” 
—  Baxter. 


INTRODUCTION. 


IX 


wander  by  a  clear  brook  of  thought,  coming 
far  from  the  beautiful  hills,  and  winding  away 
from  beneath  the  sunshine  of  gladness  and 
beauty  into  the  dense,  mysterious  forest  of  hu¬ 
man  existence,  that  loves  to  sing,  amid  the 
shadow  of  human  darkness  and  anguish,  its 
music  of  heaven-born  consolation ;  bringing, 
too,  its  pure  waters  of  cleansing  and  healing, 
yet  evermore  making  its  praise  of  holy  affec¬ 
tion  and  gladness  ;  while  it  is  still  haunted  by 
the  spirits  of  prophet,  saint,  and  poet,  repeat¬ 
ing  snatches  of  their  strains,  and  is  led  on,  as 
by  a  spirit  from  above,  to  join  th6  great  river 
of  God’s  truth . 

“  This  is  a  book  for  Christian  men,  for  the 
quiet  hour  of  holy  solitude,  when  the  heart 
longs  and  waits  for  access  to  the  presence  of 
the  Master.  The  weary  heart  that  thirsts 
amidst  its  conflicts  and  its  toils  for  refreshing 
water,  will  drink  eagerly  of  these  sweet  and 
refreshing  words.  To  thoughtful  men  and 
women,  especially  such  as  have  learnt  any  of 
the  patience  of  hope  in  the  experiences  of  sor¬ 
row  and  trial,  we  commend  this  little  volume 
most  heartily  and  earnestly.” 

“  The  Patience  of  Hope  ”  fell  into  my  hands 
soon  after  its  publication  in  Edinburgh,  some 


X 


INTRODUCTION. 


V 


two  years  ago.  I  was  at  once  impressed  b)i 
its  extraordinary  richness  of  language  and  im- 
agery,  —  its  deep  and  solemn  tone  of  medi¬ 
tation  in  rare  combination  with  an  eminent¬ 
ly  practical  tendency,  —  philosophy  warm  and 
glowing  with  love.  It  will,  perhaps,  be  less  the 
fault  of  the  writer  than  of  her  readers,  if  they 
are  not  always  able  to  eliminate  from  her 
highly  poetical  and  imaginative  language  the 
subtle  metaphysical  verity  or  phase  of  religious 
experience  which  she  seeks  to  express,  or  that 
they  are  compelled  to  pass  over,  without  ap¬ 
propriation,  many  things  which  are  nevertheless 
profoundly  suggestive  as  vague  possibilities  of 
the  highest  life.  All  may  not  be  able  to  find 
in  some  of  her  Scriptural  citations  the  exact 
weight  and  significance  so  apparent  to  her  own 
mind.  She  startles  us,  at  times,  by  her  novel 
applications  of  familiar  texts,  by  meanings  re¬ 
flected  upon  them  from  her  own  spiritual  in¬ 
tuitions,  making  the  barren  Baca  of  the  letter 
a  well.  If  the  rendering  be  questionable,  the 
beauty  and  quaint  felicity  of  illustration  and 
comparison  are  unmistakable  ;  and  we  call  to 
mind  Augustine’s  saying,  that  two  or  more 
widely  varying  interpretations  of  Scripture  may 
be  alike  true  in  themselves  considered.  “  When 
one  saith,  ‘  Moses  meant  as  I  do,’  and  an- 


INTRODUCTION. 


XI 


other  saith,  ‘  Nay,  but  as  I  do,’  I  ask,  more 
reverently,  ‘  Why  not  rather  as  both,  if  both 
be  true  ?  ” 

Some  minds,  for  instance,  will  hesitate  to  as¬ 
sent  to  the  use  of  certain  Scriptural  passages,  as 
evidence  that  He  who  is  the  Light  of  men,  the 
Way  and  the  Truth,  in  the  mystery  of  his  econ¬ 
omy,  designedly  “  delays,  withdraws,  and  even 
hides  himself  from  those  who  love  and  follow 
him.”  They  will  prefer  to  impute  spiritual 
dearth  and  darkness  to  human  weakness,  to  the 
selfishness  which  seeks  a  sign  for  itself,  to  evil 
imaginations  indulged,  to  the  taint  and  burden 
of  some  secret  sin,  or  to  some  disease  and  ex¬ 
aggeration  of  the  conscience,  growing  out  of 
bodily  infirmity,  rather  than  to  any  purpose  on 
the  part  of  our  Heavenly  Father  to  perplex  and 
mislead  his  children.  The  sun  does  not  shine 
the  less  because  one  side  of  our  planet  is  in 
darkness.  To  borrow  the  words  of  Augustine: 
‘‘Thou,  Lord,  forsakest  nothing  thou  hast  made. 
Thou  alone  art  near  to  those  even  who  remove 
far  from  thee.  Let  them  turn  and  seek  thee, 
for  not  as  they  have  forsaken  their  Creator  hast 
thou  forsaken  thy  creation.”  It  is  only  by 
holding  fast  the  thought  of  Infinite  Goodness, 
and  interpreting  doubtful  Scripture  and  inward 
spiritual  experience  by  the  light  of  that  central 


INTRODUCTION. 


•  • 

Xll 

idea,  that  we  can  altogether  escape  the  dreadful 
conclusion  of  Pascal,  that  revelation  has  been 
given  us  in  dubious  cipher,  contradictory  and 
mystical,  in  order  that  some,  through  miracu¬ 
lous  aid,  may  understand  it  to  their  salvation, 
and  others  be  mystified  by  it  to  their  eternal 
loss. 

I  might  mention  other  points  of  probable 
divergence  between  reader  and  writer,  and  in¬ 
dicate  more  particularly  my  own  doubtful  pause 
and  hesitancy  over  some  of  these  pages.  But 
it  is  impossible  for  me  to  make  one  to  whom 
I  am  so  deeply  indebted  an  offender  for  a 
word  or  a  Scriptural  rendering.  On  the  grave 
and  awful  themes  which  she  discusses,  I  have 
little  to  say  in  the  way  of  controversy.  I 
would  listen,  rather  than  criticise.  The  utter¬ 
ances  of  pious  souls,  in  all  ages,  are  to  me  often 
like  fountains  in  a  thirsty  land,  strengthening 
and  refreshing,  yet  not  without  an  after-taste 
of  human  frailty  and  inadequateness,  a  slight 
bitterness  of  disappointment  and  unsatisfied 
quest.  Who  has  not  felt  at  times  that  the 
letter  killeth,  that  prophecies  fail,  and  tongues 
cease  to  edify,  and  been  ready  to  say,  with  the 
author  of  the  “  Imitation  of  Christ  ’’ :  ‘‘  Speak, 
Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth.  Let  not  Moses 
nor  the  prophets  speak  to  me,  but  speak  thou 


INTRODUCTION. 


xiu 


rather,  who  art  the  Inspirer  and  Enlightener  of 
all.  I  am  weary  with  reading  and  hearing  many 
things  j  let  all  teachers  hold  their  peace ;  let 
all  creatures  keep  silence :  speak  thou  alone 
to  me.” 

The  writer  of  “  The  Patience  of  Hope  ”  had, 
previous  to  its  publication,  announced  herself  to 
a  fit,  if  small,  audience  of  earnest  and  thoughtful 
Christians,  in  a  little  volume  entitled,  “  A  Pres¬ 
ent  Heaven.”  She  has  recently  published  a 
collection  of  poems,  of  which  so  competent  a 
judge  as  Dr.  Brown,  the  author  of  “  Horae 
Subsecivae”  and  “  Rab  and  his  Friends,”  thus 
speaks,  in  the  North  British  Review:  — 

“  Such  of  our  readers  —  a  fast  increasing 
number  —  as  have  read  and  enjoyed  ‘The  Pa¬ 
tience  of  Hope,’  listening  to  the  gifted  natUre 
which,  through  such  deep  and  subtile  thought, 
and  through  affection  and  godliness  still  deeper 
and  more  quick,  has  charmed  and  soothed  them, 
will  not  be  surprised  to  learn  that  she  is  not 
only  poetical,  but,  what  is  more,  a  poet,  and 
one  as  true  as  George  Herbert  and  Henry 
Vaughan,  or  our  own  Cowper;  for,  with  all 
our  admiration  of  the  searching,  fearless  spec¬ 
ulation,  the  wonderful  power  of  speaking  clear¬ 
ly  upon  dark  and  all  but  unspeakable  subjects, 
the  rich  outcome  of  ‘  thoughts  that  wander 


XIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


through  eternity/  which  increases  every  time  we 
take  up  that  wonderful  little  book,  we  confess 
we  were  surprised  at  the  kind  and  the  amount 
of  true  poetic  vis  in  these  poems,  from  the  same 
fine  and  strong  hand.  There  is  a  personality 
and  immediateness,  a  sort  of  sacredness  and 
privacy,  as  if  they  were  overheard  rather  than 
read,  which  gives  to  these  remarkable  produc¬ 
tions  a  charm  and  a  flavor  all  their  own.  With 
no  effort,  no  consciousness  of  any  end  but  that 
of  uttering  the  inmost  thoughts  and  desires  of 
the  heart,  they  flow  out  as  clear,  as  living,  as 
gladdening  as  the  wayside  well,  coming  from 
out  the  darkness  of  the  central  depths,  filtered 
into  purity  by  time  and  travel.  The  waters 
are  copious,  sometimes  to  overflowing ;  but  they 
are*  always  limpid  and  unforced,  singing  their 
own  quiet  tune,  not  saddening,  though  some¬ 
times  sad,  and  their  darkness  not  that  of  obscu¬ 
rity,  but  of  depth,  like  that  of  the  deep  sea. 

“  This  is  not  a  book  to  criticise  or  speak 
about,  and  we  give  no  extracts  from  the  longer, 
and  in  this  case,  we  think,  the  better  poems. 
In  reading  this  Cardiphonia  set  to  music,  we 
have  been  often  reminded,  not  only  of  Herbert 
and  Vaughan,  but  of  Keble,  —  a  likeness  of  the 
spirit,  not  of  the  letter ;  for  if  there  is  any  one 
poet  who  has  given  a  bent  to  her  mind,  it  is 


INTRODUCTION. 


XV 


Wordsworth,  —  the  greatest  of  all  our  century’s 
poets,  both  in  himself  and  in  his  power  of  mak¬ 
ing  poets.” 

In  the  belief  that  whoever  peruses  the  fol¬ 
lowing  pages  will  be  sulEciently  interested  in 
their  author  to  be  induced  to  turn  back  and 
read  over  again,  with  renewed  pleasure,  extracts 
from  her  metrical  writings,  I  copy  from  the 
volume  so  warmly  commended  a  few  brief 
pieces  and  extracts  from  the  longer  poems. 

Here  are  three  sonnets,  each  a  sermon  in 
itself :  — 


ASCENDING. 

They  who  from  mountain-peaks  have  gazed  upon 
The  wide,  illimitable  heavens,  have  said. 

That,  still  receding  as  they  climbed,  outspread. 
The  blue  vault  deepens  over  them,  and,  one 
By  one  drawn  further  back,  each  starry  sun 
Shoots  down  a  feebler  splendor  overhead. 

So,  Saviour,  as  our  mounting  spirits,  led 
Along  Faith’s  living  way  to  Thee,  have  won 
A  nearer  access,  up  the  difficult  track 
Still  pressing,  on  that  rarer  atmosphere. 

When  low  beneath  us  flits  the  cloudy  rack. 

We  see  Thee  drawn  within  a  widening  sphere 
Of  glory,  from  us  further,  further  back,  — 

Yet  is  it  then  because  we  are  more  near. 


XVI 


INTRODUCTION. 


LIFE  TAPESTRY. 

Too  long  have  I,  methought,  with  tearful  eye 

Pored  o’er  this  tangled  work  of  mine,  and  mused 
Above  each  stitch  awry  and  thread  confused ; 

Now  will  I  think  on  what  in  years  gone  by 
I  heard  of  them  that  weave  rare  tapestry 
At  royal  looms,  and  how  they  constant  use 
To  work  on  the  rough  side,  and  still  peruse 
The  pictured  pattern  set  above  them  high  ; 

So  will  I  set  MY  COPY  high  above. 

And  gaze  and  gaze  till  on  my  spirit  grows 
Its  gracious  impress ;  till  some  line  of  love. 
Transferred  upon  my  canvas,  faintly  glows ; 

Nor  look  too  much  on  warp  or  woof,  provide 
He  whom  I  work  for  sees  their  fairer  side ! 

HOPE. 

When  I  do  think  on  thee,  sweet  Hope,  and  how 
Thou  followest  on  our  steps,  a  coaxing  child 
Oft  chidden  hence,  yet  quickly  reconciled. 

Still  turning  on  us  a  glad,  beaming  brow. 

And  red,  ripe  lips  for  kisses :  even  now 
Thou  mindest  me  of  him,  the  Ruler  mild. 

Who  led  God’s  chosen  people  through  the  wild. 
And  bore  with  wayward  murmurers,  meek  as  thou 
That  bringest  waters  from  the  Rock,  with  bread 
Of  angels  strewing  Earth  for  us  !  like  him 
Thy  force  abates  not,  nor  thine  eye  grows  dim ; 
But  still  with  milk  and  honey-droppings  fed. 

Thou  leadest  to  the  Promised  Country  fair. 
Though  thou,  like  Moses,  may’st  not  enter  there  ! 


INTRODUCTION. 


xvii 

There  is  something  very  weird  and  striking 

in  the  following  lines :  — 

GONE. 

Alone,  at  midnight  as  he  knelt,  his  spirit  was  aware 

Of  Somewhat  falling  in  between  the  silence  and  the 
prayer ; 

A  bell’s  dull  clangor  that  hath  sped  so  far,  it  faints 
and  dies 

So  soon  as  it  hath  reached  the  ear  whereto  its  errand 
lies  ; 

And  as  he  rose  up  from  his  knees,  his  spirit  was 
aware 

Of  Somewhat,  forceful  and  unseen,  that  sought  to 
hold  him  there  ; 

As  of  a  Form  that  stood  behind,  and  on  his  shoulders 
prest 

Both  hands  to  stay  his  rising  up,  and  Somewhat  in 
his  breast. 

In  accents  clearer  far  than  words,  spake,  Pray  yet 
longer,  pray. 

For  one  that  ever  prayed  for  thee  this  night  hath 
passed  away ; 

A  soul,  that  climbing  hour  by  hour  the  silver- 
shining  stair 

That  leads  to  God’s  great  treasure-house,  grew  covet¬ 
ous  ;  and  there 

B 


xviii  INTRODUCTION. 

‘'Was  stored  no  blessing  and  no  boon,  for  thee  she 
did  not  claim, 

(So  lowly,  yet  importunate !)  and  ever  with  thy 
name 

“  She  link’d  —  that  none  in  earth  or  heaven  might 
hinder  it  or  stay  — 

One  Other  Name,  so  strong,  that  thine  hath  never 
missed  its  way. 

“  This  very  night  within  my  arms  this  gracious  soul 
I  bore 

Within  the  Gate,  where  many  a  prayer  of  hers  had 
gone  before  ; 

“  And  where  she  resteth,  evermore  one  constant 
song  they  raise 

Of  ‘  Holy,  holy,’  so  that  now  I  know  not  if  she 
prays ; 

“  But  for  the  voice  of  praise  in  Heaven,  a  voice  of 
Prayer  hath  gone 

From  Earth ;  thy  name  upriseth  now  no  more ; 
pray  on,  pray  on  !  ” 

The  following  may  serve  as  a  specimen  of 

the  writer’s  lighter,  half-playful  strain  of  mor- 


SEEKING. 


“  And  where,  and  among  what  pleasant  places. 
Have  ye  been,  that  ye  come  again 


INTRODUCTION. 


XIX 


With  your  laps  so  full  of  flowers,  and  your  faces 
Like  buds  blown  fresh  after  rain  ?  ” 

We  have  been,”  said  the  children  speaking 
In  their  gladness,  as  the  birds  chime. 

All  together,  —  we  have  been  seeking 
For  the  Fairies  of  olden  time  j 
For  we  thought,  they  are  only  hidden,  — 

They  would  never  surely  go 
From  this  green  earth  all  unbidden. 

And  the  children  that  love  them  so; 

Though  they  come  not  around  us  leaping. 

As  they  did  when  they  and  the  world 
Were  young,  we  shall  find  them  sleeping 
Within  some  broad  leaf  curled  ; 

For  the  lily  its  white  doors  closes 
But  only  over  the  bee. 

And  we  looked  through  the  summer  roses. 

Leaf  by  leaf,  so  carefully  ; 

But  we  thought,  rolled  up  we  shall  find  them 
Among  mosses  old  and  dry  ; 

From  gossamer  threads  that  bind  them. 

They  will  start  like  the  butterfly. 

All  winged  :  so  we  went  forth  seeking. 

Yet  still  they  have  kept  unseen  ; 

Though  we  think  our  feet  have  been  keeping 
The  track  where  they  have  been. 

For  we  saw  where  their  dance  went  flying 
O’er  the  pastures,  —  snowy  white 
Their  seats  and  their  tables  lying, 

O’erthrown  in  their  sudden  flight. 


XX 


INTRODUCTION. 


And  they,  too,  have  had  their  losses. 

For  we  found  the  goblets  white 
And  red  in  the  old  spiked  mosses. 

That  they  drank  from  over-night ; 

And  in  the  pale  horn  of  the  woodbine 
Was  some  wine  left,  clear  and  bright ; 

But  we  found,”  said  the  children,  speaking 
More  quickly,  so  many  things. 

That  we  soon  forgot  we  were  seeking,  — 

Forgot  all  the  Fairy  rings. 

Forgot  all  the  stories  olden 

That  we  hear  round  the  lire  at  night. 

Of  their  gifts  and  their  favors  golden,  — 

The  sunshine  was  so  bright ; 

And  the  flowers  —  we  found  so  many 
That  it  almost  made  us  grieve 
To  think  there  were  some,  sweet  as  any. 

That  we  were  forced  to  leave  ; 

As  we  left,  by  the  brook-side  lying. 

The  balls  of  drifted  foam. 

And  brought  (after  all  our  trying) 

These  Guelder-roses  home.” 

Then,  oh  !  ”  I  heard  one  speaking 
Beside  me  soft  and  low, 

I  have  been,  like  the  blessed  children,  seeking. 
Still  seeking,  to  and  fro  ; 

Yet  not,  like  them,  for  the  Fairies,  — 

They  might  pass  unmourned  away 
For  me,  that  had  looked  on  angels  — 

On  angels  that  would  not  stay  j 


INTRODUCTION. 


xxi 


No  !  not  though  in  haste  before  them 
I  spread  all  my  heart’s  best  cheer. 

And  made  love  my  banner  o’er  them. 

If  it  might  but  keep  them  here  ; 

They  stayed  but  awhile  to  rest  them  ; 

Long,  long  before  its  close. 

From  my  feast,  though  I  mourned  and  prest  them. 
The  radiant  guests  arose  ; 

And  their  flitting  wings  struck  sadness 
And  silence  ;  never  more 
Hath  my  soul  won  back  the  gladness. 

That  was  its  own  before. 

No ;  I  mourned  not  for  the  Fairies 
When  I  had  seen  hopes  decay. 

That  were  sweet  unto  my  spirit 
So  long  ;  I  said,  ‘  If  they. 

That  through  shade  and  sunny  weather 
Have  twined  about  my  heart. 

Should  fade,  we  must  go  together. 

For  we  can  never  part !  * 

But  my  care  was  not  availing, 

I  found  their  sweetness  gone ; 

I  saw  their  bright  tints  paling ;  — 

They  died  ;  yet  I  lived  on. 

“  Yet  seeking,  ever  seeking 
Like  the  children,  I  have  won 
A  guerdon  all  undreamt  of 
When  first  my  quest  begun. 

And  my  thoughts  come  back  like  wanderers. 
Out-wearied,  to  my  breast ; 


xxii 


INTRODUCTION. 


What  they  sought  for  long  they  found  not. 

Yet  was  the  Unsought  best. 

For  I  sought  not  out  for  crosses, 

t 

I  did  not  seek  for  pain  ; 

Yet  I  find  the  heart’s  sore  losses 
Were  the  spirit’s  surest  gain.” 

In  “  A  Meditation,”  the  writer  ventures,  not 
without  awe  and  reverence,  upon  that  dim,  un¬ 
sounded  ocean  of  mystery,  the  life  beyond. 

'‘But  is  there  prayer 

Within  your  quiet  Homes,  and  is  there  care 
For  those  ye  leave  behind?  I  would  address 
My  spirit  to  this  theme  in  humbleness : 

No  tongue  nor  pen  hath  uttered  or  made  known 
This  mystery,  and  thus  I  do  but  guess 

At  clearer  types  through  lowlier  patterns  shown  ; 
Yet  when  did  Love  on  earth  forsake  its  own  ? 

Ye  may  not  quit  your  sweetness,  in  the  Vine 

More  firmly  rooted  than  of  old,  your  wine 
Hath  freer  flow!  ye  have  not  changed,  but  grown 
To  fuller  stature  ;  though  the  shock  was  keen 
That  severed  you  from  us,  how  oft  below 
Hath  sorest  parting  smitten  but  to  show 
True  hearts  their  hidden  wealth  that  quickly  grow 
The  closer  for  that  anguish,  —  friend  to  friend 
Revealed  more  clear,  —  and  what  is  Death  to  rend 
The  ties  of  life  and  love,  when  He  must  fade 
In  light  of  very  Life,  when  He  must  bend 
T o  love,  that,  loving,  loveth  to  the  end  ? 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXlll 


I  do  not  deem  ye  look 
Upon  us  now,  for  be  it  that  your  eyes 
Are  sealed  or  clear,  a  burden  on  them  lies 
Too  deep  and  blissful  for  their  gaze  to  brook 
Our  troubled  strife  ;  enough  that  once  ye  dwelt 
Where  now  we  dwell,  enough  that  once  ye  felt 
As  now  we  feel,  to  bid  you  recognize 
Our  claim  of  kindred  cherished  though  unseen ; 

And  Love  that  is  to  you  for  eye  and  ear 
Hath  ways  unknown  to  us  to  bring  you  near,  — 
To  keep  you  near  for  all  that  comes  between  ; 

As  pious  souls  that  move  in  sleep  to  prayer. 

As  distant  friends,  that  see  not,  and  yet  share 
(I  speak  of  what  I  know)  each  other’s  care. 

So  may  your  spirits  blend  with  ours !  above 
Ye  know  not  haply  of  our  state,  yet  Love 
Acquaints  you  with  our  need,  and  through  a  way 
More  sure  than  that  of  knowledge  —  so  ye  pray  ! 

And  even  thus  we  meet. 

And  even  thus  we  commune  !  spirits  freed 
And  spirits  fettered  mingle,  nor  have  need 
To  seek  a  common  atmosphere,  the  air 
Is  meet  for  either  in  this  olden,  sweet. 

Primeval  breathing  of  Man’s  spirit,  —  Prayer ! 

I  give,  in  conclusion,  a  portion  of  one  of  her 
most  characteristic  poems,  “The  Reconciler.” 

Our  dreams  are  reconciled. 

Since  Thou  didst  come  to  turn  them  all  to  Truth; 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION, 


The  World,  the  Heart,  are  dreamers  in  their  youth 
Of  visions  beautiful,  and  strange  and  wild  ; 

And  Thou,  our  Life’s  Interpreter,  dost  still 
At  once  make  clear  these  visions  and  fulfil ; 

Each  dim  sweet  Orphic  rhyme. 

Each  mythic  tale  sublime 
Of  strength  to  save,  of  sweetness  to  subdue, 

^Each  morning  dream  the  few. 

Wisdom’s  first  lovers  told,  if  read  in  Thee  comes  true. 
•  •  •  •  • 

Thou,  O  Friend 

From  heaven,  that  madest  this  our  heart  Thine  own. 
Dost  pierce  the  broken  language  of  its  moan  — 

Thou  dost  not  scorn  our  needs,  but  satisfy  ! 

Each  yearning  deep  and  wide. 

Each  claim,  is  justified  ; 

Our  young  illusions  fail  not,  though  they  die 
Within,  the  brightness  of  Thy  Rising,  kissed 
To  happy  death,  like  early  clouds  that  lie 
About  the  gates  of  Dawn,  —  a  golden  mist 
Paling  to  blissful  white,  through  rose  and  amethyst. 

The  World  that  puts  Thee  by. 

That  opens  not  to  greet  Thee  with  Thy  train. 

That  sendeth  after  Thee  the  sullen  cry, 

‘‘We  will  not  have  thee  over  us  to  reign  ”  ; 

Itself  doth  testify  through  searchings  vain 
Of  Thee  and  of  its  need,  and  for  the  good 
It  will  not,  of  some  base  similitude 
Takes  up  a  taunting  witness,  till  its  mood. 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXV 


Grown  fierce  o’er  failing  hopes,  doth  rend  and  tear 
Its  own  illusions  grown  too  thin  and  bare 
To  wrap  it  longer  ;  for  within  the  gate 
Where  all  must  pass,  a  veiled  and  hooded  Fate 
A  dark  Chimera,  coiled  and  tangled  lies. 

And  he  who  answers  not  its  questions  dies,  — 

Still  changing  form  and  speech,  but  with  the  same 
Vexed  riddles,  Gordian-twisted,  bringing  shame 
Upon  the  nations  that  with  eager  cry 
Hail  each  new  solver  of  the  mystery ; 

Yet  he,  of  these  the  best. 

Bold  guesser,  hath  but  prest 
Most  nigh  to  Thee,  our  noisy  plaudits  wrong  j 
True  Champion,  that  hast  wrought 
Our  help  of  old,  and  brought 
Meat  from  this  eater,  sweetness  from  this  strong. 

O  Bearer  of  the  key 

That  shuts  and  opens  with  a  sound  so  sweet 
Its  turning  in  the  wards  is  melody. 

All  things  we  move  among  are  incomplete 
And  vain  until  we  fashion  them  in  Thee  ! 

We  labor  in  the  fire. 

Thick  smoke  is  round  about  us,  through  the  din 
Of  words  that  darken  counsel  clamors  dire 

Ring  from  thought’s  beaten  anvil,  where  within 
Two  Giants  toil,  that  even  from  their  birth 
With  travail-pangs  have  torn  their  mother  Earth, 
And  wearied  out  her  children  with  their  keen 
Upbraidings  of  the  other,  till  between 

2 


XXVI 


INTRODUCTION. 


Thou  earnest,  saying,  Wherefore  do  ye  wrong 
Each  other? — ye  are  Brethren.”  Then  these  twain 
Will  own  their  kindred,  and  in  Thee  retain 
Their  claims  in  peace,  because  Thy  land  is  wide 
As  it  is  goodly  !  here  they  pasture  free. 

This  lion  and  this  leopard,  side  by  side, 

A  little  child  doth  lead  them  with  a  song  ; 

Now,  Ephraim’s  envy  ceaseth,  and  no  more 
Doth  Judah  anger  Ephraim  chiding  sore. 

For  one  did  ask  a  Brother,  one  a  King, 

So  dost  Thou  gather  them  in  one,  and  bring  — 
Thou,  King  forevermore,  forever  Priest, 

Thou,  Brother  of  our  own  from  bonds  released  — 

A  Law  of  Liberty, 

A  Service  making  free, 

A  Commonweal  where  each  has  all  in  Thee. 


And  not  alone  these  wide. 
Deep-planted  yearnings,  seeking  with  a  cry 
Their  meat  from  God,  in  Thee  are  satisfied  ; 
But  all  our  instincts  waking  suddenly 
Within  the  soul,  like  infants  from  their  sleep 
That  stretch  their  arms  into  the  dark  and  weep. 
Thy  voice  can  still.  The  stricken  heart  bereft 
Of  all  its  brood  of  singing  hopes,  and  left 
’Mid  leafless  boughs,  a  cold,  forsaken  nest 
With  snow-flakes  in  it,  folded  in  thy  breast 
Doth  lose  its  deadly  chill ;  and  grief  that  creeps 
Unto  thy  side  for  shelter,  finding  there 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXVll 

The  wound’s  deep  cleft,  forgets  its  moan,  and  weeps 
Calm,  quiet  tears,  and  on  thy  forehead  Care 
Hath  looked  until  its  thorns,  no  longer  bare. 

Put  forth  pale  roses.  Pain  on  thee  doth  press 
Its  quivering  cheek,  and  all  the  weariness. 

The  want  that  keep  their  silence,  till  from  Thee 
They  hear  the  gracious  summons,  none  beside 
Hath  spoken  to  the  world-worn,  **  Come  to  me,” 
Tell  forth  their  heavy  secrets. 

Thou  dost  hide 

These  in  thy  bosom,  and  not  these  alone. 

But  all  our  heart’s  fond  treasure  that  had  grown 
A  burden  else :  O  Saviour,  tears  were  weighed 
To  Thee  in  plenteous  measure  !  none  hath  shown 
That  Thou  didst  smile  !  yet  hast  Thou  surely  made 
All  joy  of  ours  Thine  own ; 

Thou  madest  us  for  Thine ; 

We  seek  amiss,  we  wander  to  and  fro  j 
Yet  are  we  ever  on  the  track  Divine ; 

The  soul  confesseth  Thee,  but  sense  is  slow 
To  lean  on  aught  but  that  which  it  may  see ; 

So  hath  it  crowded  up  these  Courts  below 
With  dark  and  broken  images  of  Thee ; 

Lead  Thou  us  forth  upon  Thy  Mount,  and  show 
Thy  goodly  patterns,  whence  these  things  of  old 
By  Thee  were  fashioned ;  One  though  manifold. 
Glass  Thou  thy  perfect  likeness  in  the  soul. 

Show  us  Thy  countenance,  and  we  are  whole  ! 


INTRODUCTION. 


xxviii 

No  one,  I  am  quite  certain,  will  regret  that 
I  have  made  these  liberal  quotations.  Apart 
from  their  literary  merit,  they  have  a  special 
interest  for  the  readers  of  ‘^The  Patience  of 
Hope,”  as  more  fully  illustrating  the  writer’s 
personal  experience  and  aspirations. 

It  has  been  suggested  by  a  friend,  that  it  is 
barely  possible  that  an  objection  may  be  urged 
against  the  following  treatise,  as  against  all 
books  of  a  like  character,  that  its  tendency  is 
to  isolate  the  individual  from  his  race,  and 
to  nourish  an  exclusive  and  purely  selfish  per¬ 
sonal  solicitude  ;  that  its  piety  is  self-absorb¬ 
ent,  and  that  it  does  not  take  sufiiciently  into 
account  active  duties  and  charities,  and  the 
love  of  the  neighbor  so  strikingly  illustrated 
by  the  Divine  Master  in  his  life  and  teachings. 
This  objection,  if  valid,  would  be  a  fatal  one. 
For,  of  a  truth,  there  can  be  no  meaner  type 
of  human  selfishness  than  that  afforded  by 
him  who,  unmindful  of  the  world  of  sin  and 
suffering  about  him,  occupies  himself  in  the 
pitiful  business  of  saving  his  own  soul  in  the 
very  spirit  of  the  miser,  watching  over  his 
private  hoard  while  his  neighbors  starve  for  lack 
of  bread.  But  surely  the  benevolent  unrest, 
the  far-reaching  sympathies  and  keen  sensitive¬ 
ness  to  the  suffering  of  others,  which  so  nobly 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXIX 


distinguish  our  present  age,  can  have  nothing  to 
fear  from  a  plea  for  personal  holiness,  patience, 
hope,  and  resignation  to  the  Divine  will.  “  The 
more  piety,  the  more  compassion,”  says  Isaac 
Taylor  ;  and  this  is  true,  if  we  understand  by 
piety,  not  self-concentred  asceticism,  but  the 
pure  religion  and  undefiled  which  visits  the 
widow  and  the  fatherless,  and  yet  keeps  itself 
unspotted  from  the  world,  —  which  deals  justly, 
loves  mercy,  and  yet  walks  humbly  before  God. 
Self-scrutiny  in  the  light  of  truth  can  do  no 
harm  to  any  one,  least  of  all  to  the  reformer  and 
philanthropist.  The  spiritual  warrior,  like  the 
young  candidate  for  knighthood,  may  be  none 
the  worse  for  his  preparatory  ordeal  of  watching 
all  night  by  his  armor. 

Tauler  in  mediaeval  times,  and  Woolman  in 
the  last  century,  are  among  the  most  earnest 
teachers  of  the  inward  life  and  spiritual  nature 
of  Christianity,  yet  both  were  distinguished  for 
practical  benevolence.  They  did  not  separate 
the  two  great  commandments.  Tauler  strove 
with  equal  intensity  of  zeal  to  promote  the  tem¬ 
poral  and  the  spiritual  welfare  of  men.  In  the 
dark  and  evil  time  in  which  he  lived,  amidst  the 
untold  horrors  of  the  “  Black  Plague,  ”  he 
illustrated  by  deeds  of  charity  and  mercy  his 
doctrine  of  disinterested  benevolence.  Wool- 


XXX 


INTRODUCTION. 


man’s  whole  life  was  a  nobler  “  Imitation  of 
Christ  ”  than  that  fervid  rhapsody  of  monastic 
piety  which  bears  the  name. 

How  faithful,  yet,  withal,  how  full  of  kind¬ 
ness,  were  his  rebukes  of  those  who  refused 
labor  its  just  reward,  and  ground  the  faces  of 
the  poor  ?  How  deep  and  entire  was  his  sym¬ 
pathy  with  overtasked  and  ill-paid  laborers ; 
with  wet  and  ill-provided  sailors,  with  poor 
wretches  blaspheming  in  the  mines,  because 
oppression  had  made  them  mad  ;  with  the  dyers 
plying  their  unhealthful  trade  to  minister  to 
luxury  and  pride  ;  with  the  tenant  wearing  out 
his  life  in  the  service  of  a  hard  landlord  ;  and 
with  the  slave  sighing  over  his  unrequited  toil  ! 
What  a  significance  there  was  in  his  vision  of 
the  “  dull,  gloomy  mass  ”  which  appeared  be¬ 
fore  him,  darkening  half  the  heavens,  and  which 
he  was  told  was  human  beings  in  as  great 
misery  as  they  could  be  and  live  ;  and  he  was 
mixed  with  them,  and  henceforth  he  might  not 
consider  himself  a  distinct  and  separate  being  ”  ! 
His  saintliness  was  wholly  unconscious  ;  he 
seems  never  to  have  thought  himself  any  nearer 
to  the  tender  heart  of  God  than  the  most  miser¬ 
able  sinner  to  whom  his  compassion  extended. 
As  he  did  not  live,  so  neither  did  he  die  to  him¬ 
self.  His  prayer  upon  his  death-bed  was  for 


INTRODUCTION. 


xxxi 


others  rather  than  himself ;  its  beautiful  humility 
and  simple  trust  were  marred  by  no  sensual 
imagery  of  crowns  and  harps  and  golden  streets, 
and  personal  beatific  exaltations ;  but  tender 
and  touching  concern  for  suffering  humanity, 
relieved  only  by  the  thought  of  the  paternity  of 
God,  and  of  his  love  and  omnipotence,  alone 
found  utterance  in  ever-memorable  words.* 

In  view  of  the  troubled  state  of  the  country, 
and  the  intense  preoccupation  of  the  public 
mind,  I  have  had  some  hesitation  in  offering 
this  volume  to  its  publishers.  But,  on  further 
reflection,  it  has  seemed  to  me  that  it  might 
supply  a  want  felt  by  many  among  us ;  that,  in 
the  chaos  of  civil  strife,  and  the  shadow  of 
mourning  which  rests  over  the  land,  the  con- 

*  “  O  Lord,  my  God !  the  amazing  horrors  of  darkness  were 
gathered  about  me,  and  covered  me  all  over,  and  I  saw  no  way  to 
go  forth  ;  I  felt  the  depth  and  extent  of  the  misery  of  my  fellonv- 
creatures  separated  from  the  Di-vine  harmony^  and  it  ’ivas  greater 
than  I  could  bear^  and  I  ivas  crushed  doivn  under  it ;  I  lifted  up 
my  kandj  I  stretched  out  my  army  but  there  ivas  none  to  help  me  ,*  I 
looked  round  about,  and  was  amazed.  In  the  depths  of  misery, 
O  Lord,' J  remembered  that  Thou  art  omnipotent  ^  that  I  had  called 
thee  Father  ^  and  I  felt  that  I  loved  thee;  and  I  was  made  quiet 
in  my  will,  and  waited  for  deliverance  from  thee.  Thou  hadst 
pity  upon  me,  when  no  man  could  help  me;  I  saw  that  meekness 
under  suffering  was  showed  to  us  in  the  most  affecting  example 
of  thy  Son;  and  thou  taught  me  to  follow  him,  and  I  said,  ‘Thy 
will,  O  Father,  be  done !  ’  ” 


XXXll 


INTRODUCTION. 


templation  of  “  things  unseen  which  are  eter¬ 
nal  ”  might  not  be  unwelcome ;  that,  when  the 
foundations  of  human  confidence  are  shaken, 
and  the  trust  in  man  proves  vain,  there  might 
be  glad  listeners  to  a  voice,  calling  from  the 
outward  and  the  temporal,  to  the  inward  and 
the  spiritual  j  from  the  troubles  and  perplexities 
of  time,  to  the  eternal  quietness  which  God 
giveth.  I  cannot  but  believe  that,  in  the  heat 
and  glare  through  which  we  are  passing,  this 
book  will  not  invite  in  vain  to  the  calm,  sweet 
shadows  of  holy  meditation,  grateful  as  the 
green  wings  of  the  bird  to  Thalaba  in  the 
desert ;  and  thus  afford  something  of  consola¬ 
tion  to  the  bereaved,  and  of  strength  to  the 
weary.  For  surely  never  was  the  “Patience 
of  Hope  ”  more  needed  ;  never  was  the  inner 
sanctuary  of  prayer  more  desirable ;  never  was 
a  steadfast  faith  in  the  Divine  goodness  more 
indispensable,  nor  lessons  of  self-sacrifice  and 
renunciation,  and  that  cheerful  acceptance  of 
known  duty  which  shifts  not  its  proper  respon¬ 
sibility  upon  others,  nor  asks  for  “  peace  in 
its  day”  at  the  expense  of  purity  and  justice, 
more  timely  than  now,  when  the  solemn  words 
of  ancient  prophecy  are  as  applicable  to  our 
own  country  as  to  that  of  the  degenerate  Jew, — 
“  Thine  own  wickedness  shall  correct  thee,  and 


INTRODUCTION. 


xxxiii 

thy  backsliding  reprove  thee ;  know,  therefore, 
it  is  an  evil  thing,  and  bitter,  that  thou  hast 
forsaken  the  Lord,  and  that  my  fear  is  not  in 
thee,”  —  when  “  His  way  is  in  the  deep,  in 
clouds,  and  in  thick  darkness,”  and  the  hand 
heavy  upon  us  which  shall  “  turn  and  overturn 
until  he  whose  right  it  is  shall  reign,”  —  until, 
not  without  rending  agony,  the  evil  plant  which 
our  Heavenly  Father  hath  not  planted,  whose 
roots  have  wound  themselves  about  altar  and 
hearthstone,  and  whose  branches,  like  the  tree 
Al-Accoub  in  Moslem  fable,  bear  the  accursed 
fruit  of  oppression,  rebellion,  and  all  imaginable 
crime,  shall  be  torn  up  and  destroyed  forever. 

J.  G.  W. 

Amesbury,  ist  6th  mo.,  i86a. 


2  * 


C 


.“S 


"1 

•a 


« 


..f  -  •  < 


Part  First. 

/ 


“  He  shall  grow  up  as  a  tender  plant, 
As  a  root  out  of  dry  ground.” 

Isaiah  liii.  2. 


V. 


The  Patience  of  Hope. 

PART  I. 

N  Jesus  Christ  all  contradictions  are 
reconciled  ;  yet  in  Him,  also,  and  in 
all  that  is  connected  with  his  person 
and  office,  we  are  met  by  a  strange 
contradiction,  —  a  clashing  of  opposing  attri¬ 
butes.  “  Who  is  this  that  cometh  from  Edom, 
with  dyed  garments  from  Bozrah,  glorious  in 
his  apparel,  travelling  in  the  greatness  of  his 
strength  ?  He  who  hath  trodden  down  the 
people  in  his  wrath,  and  trampled  upon  them 
in  his*  fury.”  Is  this  one  with  Him  the  Man 
of  sorrows  and  of  humiliation,  of  silence  and 
long-suffering,  despised  of  men  and  rejected, 
giving  iiis  back  to  the  smiters,  and  his  cheeks 
to  them  that  plucked  off  the  hair?  Is  this  Lord 
to  whom  the  Lord  |(l,th  spoken,  “  Sit  thou  on 
my  right  hand,  until  I  make  thine  enemies  thy 
footstool,”  Him  concerning  whom  God  speaks 


38 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


thus  comfortably  unto  Zion,  “  Behold,  thy  King 
cometh,  meek,  having  salvation,  lowly,  riding 
upon  an  ass,  and  a  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass”? 
is  He,  the  upholder  of  the  bruised  reed,  one 
with  Him  who  shall  bruise  the  nations  with  a 
rod  of  iron,  and  dash  them  in  pieces  like  a 
potter’s  vessel  ?  is  the  Interceder  one  with  the 
Avenger  ?  the  Lamb  that  taketh  away  the  sins 
of  the  world,  one  with  Him  whose  wrath  a 
guilty  world  shall  not  be  able  to  abide  ? 

“  Kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry.”  Can  we 
wonder  that  some  among  the  Jews  should  have 
imagined  there  would  be  two  Messiahs,  —  the 
suffering  one  and  the  triumphant  ?  And  what 
is  the  Incarnation,  but  the  fulfilment  of  these 
mighty,  yet  contending  predictions  ?  What  is 
the  life  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  upon  earth  but 
the  conflict  of  glory  and  humiliation  ?  “  The 

birth  of  Jesus  Christ  was  on  this  wise”;  glori¬ 
ous  in  fact,  yet  of  ambiguous  circumstance  ;  of 
kingly  descent,  yet  lowly  parentage ;  born  in  the 
appointed  city,  yet  called  a  Nazarene ;  cradled 
in  a  manger,  yet  worshipped  even  there  by  sage 
and  monarch ;  dying  a  death  of  ignominy,  yet 
even  upon  the  Cross,  in  Hebrew  and  Greek 
and  Latin,  —  the  three  living,  ruling  tongues  of 
time,  —  proclaimed  to  be  a  King  and  a  Saviour. 
“  This  is  Jesus  ” ;  possessed  through  life  of 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


89 


boundless  resources,  and  exerting  them  on  be¬ 
half  of  others,  yet  himself  submitting  to  the 
ordinary  conditions  of  the  Humanity  he  had 
taken  upon  him ;  hungering,  thirsting,  wearied, 
in  all  things  choosing  to  be  made  like  unto  his 
brethren  ;  Lord  of  nature  and  of  time,  yet  wait¬ 
ing  upon  the  restraints  they  impose ;  overcom¬ 
ing  death,  yet  obedient  to  that  which  he  over¬ 
came.  “  He  saved  others,  himself  he  cannot 
save.” 

And  as  with  the  Master,  so  with  them  that 
are  of  his  Household.  The  history  of  the 
Christian  Church  is  a  hieroglyph  or  picture¬ 
writing,  to  which  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ  on 
earth  is  as  it  were  the  Rosetta  stone,  making, 
when  once  mastered.,  all  the  rest  plain.  The 
present  aspect  of  the  Church,  its  past  history, 
the  records  of  individual  Christian  experience, 
offer  us  many  sorrowful  problems ;  but  how 
was  it  in  the  days  when  the  Word  was  made 
flesh  and  dwelt  among  us,  and  man  heheld  God’s 
glory,  full  of  grace  and  truth  ?  Was  there  not 
even  then  something  which  corresponds  with 
what  we  now  see  and  feel  ?  —  the  final  and 
absolute  contending  with  the  temporal  and 
accidental,  and  often  apparently  overcome  by 
them ;  lofty  principles  out  of  harmony  with 
the  things  which  surround  them,  —  delay,  vicis- 


40 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


situde,  incompleteness,  —  “  the  something  still 
which  prompts  the  eternal  sigh.”  Is  there  not 
now  in  Christ  something  which  corresponds 
with  what  we  trace  in  the  Gospel  narrative  ; 
something,  I  say,  which  disappoints  an  apparent¬ 
ly  reasonable  hope  like  that  of  the  devout  ^  Jews 
for  the  temporal  Messiah ;  disappoints  it  to  fulfil 
it  far  more  gloriously,  more  completely,  yet  in 
a  way  that  contradicts  our  natural  expectations. 
Even  then,  as  now,  did  Christ  delay,  withdraw, 
even  hide  himself  from  those  that  loved  and 
followed  him,  “  a  deceiver,  and  yet  true.” 

The  history  of  Divine  grace  in  the  heart  and 
in  the  world  is  illustrated  by  the  book  which 
St.  John  received  from  the  angel,  sweet  to  the 
taste,  bitter  in  the  working.  Is  it  the  Jew  only 
who  looks  in  Christ  for  the  temporal  deliverer, 
the  restorer  of  paths  to  dwell  in,  the  bringer 
again,  like  David,  of  all  that  the  enemy  hath 
carried  away  ?  What  finder  of  Jesus  is  there 
who  has  not  in  his  first  joy  exclaimed,  with  St. 
Andrew,  “  We  have  found  the  Messias,  that  is 
the  Christ  ”  ?  What  follower  of  Jesus  is  there 
who  does  not  learn,  as  did  those  first  brethren, 
that  “  He  niust  be  followed  to  prison  and  to 
death  ”  ? 

*  It  is  difficult,  perhaps,  for  a  Christian  to  place  himself  at 
the  point  of  view  they  occupied  so  as  to  see  how  reasonable  this 
hope  was. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


41 


When  Jesus  says  to  his  disciples,  “  In  the 
\Yorld  ye  shall  have  tribulation,”  he  speaks  from 
insight  rather  than  foresight ;  as  one  who,  know¬ 
ing  what  was  the  heart  of  man,  sees  in  himself 
the  bringer  of  a  sword  within  it,  that  shall  never 
leave  it  until  all  thing’s  concerning;  him  are  ful¬ 
filled. 

Let  us  consider  this, — that  when  Christ  took 
our  nature  upon  him,  he  took  it  as  it  was ;  he  did 
not  re-create  before  assuming  it,  but  assumed  it 
in  order  to  its  re-creation,  so  that,  being  found  in 
fashion  as  a  man,  he  brought  himself  into  con¬ 
nection,  yet  into  collision,  with  weakness,  with 
error,  with  decay,  with  all  that  belongs  to  man. 
The  conflict  of  Christianity  is  the  harder  be¬ 
cause  it  is  civil ;  it  has  allied  itself  with  that 
against  which  it  must  contend  to  the  death,  or 
be  itself  overcome  of  it.  Hence  its  fierce  col¬ 
lisions,  its  sorrowful  victories  ;  hence  too  its  still 
more  sad,  more  fatal  compromises,  its  unholy, 
unhallowing  alliances,  “the  Woman  sitting  upon 
the  Beast,”* — the  compact  between  the  Church 
and  the  World,  at  the  sight  of  which  he  who 
had  learnt  so  many  secrets  from  his  beloved 
Master,  yet  “  wondered  with  great  admiration.” 
And  if  the  world  itself  is  a  field  too  narrow  for 
the  meeting-shock  of  such  antagonists  as  grace 

*  See  Williams  on  the  Apocalypse. 


42 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


and  nature,  how  fares  it  in  the  conflict  of  which 
all  that  passes  in  the  outward  Church  is  hut  tlie 
history  “  writ  large  ” ;  when  these  two,  con¬ 
trary  the  one  to  the  other,  meet  and  wrestle 
within  the  heart  as  those  who  contend,  not  for 
mastery,  hut  for  life  itself?  Woe,  in  this  battle, 
to  the  vanquished  !  woe  also  to  the  victor  ! 
“  For  every  battle  of  the  warrior  is  with  con¬ 
fused  noise,  and  garments  rolled  in  blood,  but 
this  shall  be  with  burning  and  fuel  of  fire.” 

Ellis  tells  us  that  during  his  stay  in  Madagas¬ 
car  he  was  visited  by  a  native  of  rank,  himself 
friendly  to  Christianity,  and  who  had  suffered 
deeply  in  his  family  relations  in  the  persecution 
through  which,  as  through  a  fiery  and  bloody 
dawn,  its  light  so  lately  broke  upon  that  island. 
This  man  looked  at  the  brother  missionaries 
long  and  earnestly,  when,  after  almost  mechani¬ 
cally  giving  them  his  hands,  there  came  over 
his  countenance,  Ellis  says,  “  an  expression  such 
as  I  have  never  witnessed  in  any  human  being  ; 
an  intensity  of  feeling,  neither  ecstasy  nor  terror, 
but  an  apparent  blending  of  both ;  while  during 
the  whole  interview,  which  was  long,  there  was 
a  strange  uneasiness  mingled  with  an  evident 
satisfaction.'’^  Was  there  not  here,  even  in  the 
twilight  of  faith  and  reason,  a  recognition  of 
Christ  and  of  all  that  he  comes  to  work?  an 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


43 


intuition  in  this  half-enlightened,  half-instructed 
soul  of  what  remains  long  hidden  from  Christ’s 
wise  and  prudent  ones,  —  the  stern  necessity  of 
the  Christian  covenant,  that  Christ  in  his  mem¬ 
bers,  as  once  aforetime  in  his  human  person, 
should  suffer  many  things  before  he  can  enter 
into  his  glory  ?  It  is  hard  for  Humanity  to  re¬ 
ceive  this  lesson,  to  accept  this  inevitable  condi¬ 
tion  of  its  initiation  into  its  true  life, —  the  laying 
down  of  that  very  life.,  that  we  may  receive  it  again 
in  Christ.  Hard  for  us,  as  it  was  for  the  first 
disciples,  even  with  Christ  our  Master  going 
“before  us”  on  the  foreseen  path,  to  understand 
him  when  he  speaks  of  suffering,  of  humilation, 
of  death  itself,  shortly  to  he  accomplished.  Here 
too,  upon  the  way,  will  there  he  reasonings, 
surmisings,  something  too  within  the  heart 
which,  with  the  ardent  spirit  of  St.  Peter,  will 
resist,  even  rebuke  the  teaching  of  its  beloved 
Lord ;  which  will  say  unto  him,  “  Be  this  far 
from  Thee.”  For  what  is  this  which  Christ 
demands  from  his  disciple  ?  Even  that  which  he 
himself  gave.  “  Sacrifice  and  meat-offering  thou 
wouldest  not,  neither  hadst  pleasure  therein.” 
The  idea  of  propitiation,  or  the  giving  up  of 
something  which  we  hold  least  precious  in  order 
that  we  may  retain  that  which  we  prize  most  of 
all,  upon  which  the  sacrifices  under  the  old  law 


44 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


and  those  of  all  natural  religions  are  founded, 
finds  no  place  in  the  Christian  Covenant.  For 
to  confirm  this  between  God  and  man,  the  most 
precious  thing  of  all  was  offered.,  and  was  ac¬ 
cepted ;  “He  taketh  away  the  first,  that  he  may 
establish  the  second.” 

And  thus  it  is  necessary  that  this  Man  also 
should  have  something  to  offer.  The  need  of 
sacrifice  is  not  taken  away,  only  its  nature  is 
changed,  exalted,  deepened ;  and  mild  as  is  the 
genius  of  the  New  Dispensation,  its  knife  goes 
closer  to  the  heart  than  that  of  the  elder  one, 
which  we  are  accustomed  to  think  of  as  so  stern 
and  exacting.  Behold  the  goodness  and  sever¬ 
ity  of  Christ!  “Skin  for  skin,”  saith  Job  of 
old ;  “all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his 
life.”  And  it  is  this  very  life  which  Christ 
asks  us  to  lay  down  for  him  ;  this  life  of  which 
he  tells  us,  that  he  who  loveth  it  shall  lose  it, 
and  he  who  loseth  it  for  his  sake,  shall  keep  it 
unto  life  eternal. 

And  when  we  speak  in  a  spiritual  sense  of 
Life,  the  laying  it  down  and  taking  it  again,  we 
speak  not  of  mere  existence,  hut  of  that  wLich 
is  to  every  one  of  us  the  root  by  which  we  hold ; 
that  which  is  to  each  individual  heart  confessed¬ 
ly  “no  vain  thing,  for  it  is  our  life.”  Take  it 
away,  and  all  beside  is  gone;  “for  in  the  blood 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


45 


is  the  life  ”  ;  in  the  affections,  in  the  energies 
which  send  their  sap  through  the  whole  think¬ 
ing,  feeling  being.  And  it  is  to  the  root  of  this 
tree  of  man’s  hfe,  wrapped  round  with  its  most 
intimate  fibres,  —  even  this,  be  it  what  it  may, 
for  which  we  would  give,  for  which  we  would 
forego,  all  the  world  beside,  —  the  will  of  man., 
—  that  the  axe  of  Christ  is  laid. 

The  disciple  must  be  as  his  master,  the  ser¬ 
vant  as  his  lord.  Why  was  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ’s  death  so  pre-eminently  meritorious,  so 
infinitely  prevailing  with  God  ?  why  do  the 
sacred  writers  attribute  an  efficacy  to  it  which 
it  was  impossible  that  the  sufferings  of  uncon¬ 
scious  though  innocent  victims  could  possess  ? 
Because,  to  say  nothing  of  the  intrinsic  value  of 
this  sacrifice,  it  was,  above  all  others  that  have 
been  ever  offered,  a  free,  conscious,  and  will¬ 
ing  one.  The  Man  Christ  Jesus  was,  of  all 
created  beings,  —  as  far  as  we  know  their  his¬ 
tory,  —  the  only  one  who  chose  his  owm  destiny, 
who  foreknew  and  accepted  its  full  conditions ; 
who  saw  a  great  need,  and  responded  to  it, 
“  Lo !  I  come.”  “  My  leave,”  said  the  acute 
Frenchwoman,  was  not  asked  before  I  came 
into  the  world,”  —  a  saying  in  which  all  that 
the  human  heart  can  urge  against  God  and  his 
appointments  lies  hid.  Why  should  I  be  called 


46 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


upon  to  endure,  to  forego  so  much  ?  Had  the 
choice  been  permitted  me,  I  might  possibly  have 
declined  it.  Our  Saviour^ s  leave  was  ashed.  His 
fulfilment  of  his  Father’s  will  was  voluntary ;  he 
saw  the  end  from  the  beginning;  saw  it  even  in 
the  beginning.,  and  walked  onwards  to  that  end, 
seeing  his  own  destiny  and  feeling  his  own  free¬ 
dom.  “  I  have  power,”  he  says,  to  lay  down 
my  life,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again.” 

But  how  is  Christ’s  follower  to  obtain  this 
freedom  ?  How  is  this  great  transfer,  lying  at 
the  very  heart  of  our  spiritual  life,  the  exchange 
of  our  own  will  for  a  better  one,  to  he  effected 
for  a  being  like  Man,  impelled  alike  by  the 
weakness  and  the  strength  of  his  whole  nature 
to  cleave  unto  the  dust  from  whence  he  was 
at  first  taken  ?  At  this  point  we  must  pause  a 
moment,  feeling  that  our  subject  has  drawn  us 
into  a  desolate,  even  awful  region,  where,  like 
the  traveller  high  up  among  the  mountains,  we 
would  fain  hold  the  breath  and  hurry  onwards, 
lest  a  word  too  lightly  spoken  should  bring  down 
the  impending  avalanche.  For  all  thoughts  that 
lead  us  from  the  circumference  of  faith  to  its 
centre  draw  us  insensibly,  and  with  a  force  that 
becomes  irresistible  the  nearer  we  approach  that 
centre,  to  the  sacrifice  of  the  death  of  Christ. 
Motus  rerum  est  rapidus  extra  locum.,  placidus 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


47 


in  loco.  There  is  no  rest  for  the  soul  of  the 
believer  till  it  settles  forever  on  this  magnet. 
No  rest ;  I  would  say,  also,  no  progress  for  the 
soul  until  it  receives  within  it  this  great  Motive 
Power ;  receives  it  not  only  as  a  fulfilled  fact, 
but  accepts  it  in  its  boundless  consequences,  and 
recognizes  as  first  among  them  that  of  its  own 
“  baptism  unto  his  death.”  The  disciple  is  not 
above  his  master,  neither  is  the  servant  above 
his  Lord  ;  nevertheless.f  every  one  that  is  perfect 
shall  he  as  his  master.  O  blessed  saying  !  O 
promise  like  unto  that  made  to  the  two  chosen 
disciples,  “Ye  shall  indeed  drink  of  my  cup  ”  ; 
and  what  if  our  Lord’s  cup  should  prove  to  be 
the  cup  of  vinegar  mingled  with  gall,  it  is  none 
the  less  the  cup  of  blessing  and  of  full,  unre¬ 
served  communion.  “  Kiss  me  with  the  kisses 
of  thy  mouth,  for  thy  love  is  better  than  wine.” 

And  it  is  our  personal  initiation  into  this 
mystery  of  sacrifice  which  is,  as  regards  the  life 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  its  true  sacrament, 
enabling  the  soul  to  pass  into  real  and  intimate 
communion  with  him.  Christ  our  Passover  has 
been  long  slain  for  us ;  but  how  do  his  people, 
for  the  most  part,  keep  the  feast  ?  By  way  of 
commemoration  only. 

But  it  is  they  who  eat  of  the  sacrifices,  and 
they  only,  who  are  partakers  of  the  Altar.  It 


48 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


is  not  enongli  that  we  show  forth  our  Lord’s 
death  until  his  coming  again ;  to  draw  out  the 
depths  of  this  great  act  of  love,  we  must  so 
unite  ourselves  to  it  as  to  learn  what  St.  Paul 
meant  when  he  spoke  of  filling  up  that  which 
was  behind  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ.  It  is  the 
bearing  of  the  cross,  the  sharing  of  the  passion, 
that  enables  the  believer  to  meet  and  understand 
his  Lord ;  “  for  we  being  many,  are  one  Body,” 
and  without  participation  there  can  be  no  com¬ 
munion. 

All  that  are  in  Christ  must  be  made  to  drink 
into  one  Spirit,  yet  often  and  often  perhaps  must 
He  return  and  ask  his  chosen  ones,  “  Are  ye 
able  to  drink  of  my  cup  ?  ”  before  that  free,  calm 
answer  can  be  given,  “We  are  able  ” ;  and 
many  offerings  must  be  laid  upon  his  altar  with 
tears  and  weeping  before  the  saorifices  of  joy  are 
brought  there.  For  as  Christ  was  made  like 
unto  us,  we  must  he  made  like  unto  him^  even  at 
the  cost  of  much  that  is  grievous  to  natural  feel¬ 
ing.  His  coming  within  the  soul  is  the  bring¬ 
ing  in  of  a  new  order ;  and  when  was  there  a 
painless  transition,  a  bloodless  revolution  ?  It 
gives  a  new  aim  to  the  will  of  man  ;  it  sets  a 
fresh  goal  before  his  affections,  and  one  oft- 
times  to  be  reached  only  by  passing  over  the 
dead  body  of  all  that  made  up  their  former  life. 


TH^  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


49 


“  Who  will  lead  me  into  the  strong  city  ?  who 
will  bring  me  into  Edom  ?  ”  Before  Christ  can 
gain  the  citadel  of  Man’s  will  and  affections, 
many  pleasant  places  must  be  laid  waste  before 
him,  many  fair  and  flourishing  outworks  be 
brought  low.  These  are  hard  sayings,  and  if 
they  are  met  by  the  rejoinder.  Who  can  bear 
them  ?  the  answer  is  already  written.  They  to 
whom  they  are  addressed  hy  Christ,  and  they  only. 
“  He  who  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  cannot 
be  my  disciple.”  Christ  does  not  say  he  cannot 
be  my  servant,  does  not  say  he  cannot  be  my 
son,  but  he  cannot  be  my  disciple.  There  are 
many  gains,  many  losses  in  Christ,  over  and 
above  that  great,  inappreciable  loss  of  the  salva¬ 
tion  of  the  soul  in  him.  This  final  aim  may  be 
attained,  and  yet  the  hearers  who,  for  love  of  a 
great  or  of  a  small  possession,  depart  upon  that 
saying,  “  Sell  that  thou  hast,  and  follow  me,” 
may  have  abundant  reason  for  going  away  sor¬ 
rowful.  We  are  made  poor  by  what  we  miss,  as 
well  as  by  what  we  lose ;  *  a  little  more  patience, 

*  You  say  in  one  of  your  letters,  “  I  feel  a  solemn  pathos  in 
the  lament  which  the  Lord  takes  up  over  the  defection  of  his 
people :  ‘  0  that  my  people  had  hearkened  unto  me,  that  Israel 
had  walked  in  my  ways !  I  should  soon  have  subdued  their  ene¬ 
mies,  and  turned  my  hand  against  their  adversaries  ’ ;  and  after 
this  follows,  ‘  I  should  have  fed  them  with  the  finest  wheat  fiour, 
and  with  honey  out  of  the  stony  rock  should  I  have  satisfied 
them.’  And  what,  but  for  a  like  failure  in  perseverance  might 
3  D 


50 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


a  little  more  constancy,  and  to  what  might  we 
not  have  attained !  to  what  tender  intimacy,  to 
what  satisfying  communications,  to  what  power, 
what  rest,  what  freedom ! 

The  more  clearly  we  follow  Christ,  the  more 
perseveringly  do  certain  truths  present  them¬ 
selves  to  us,  —  truths  with  which  we  commune, 
but  dare  not  for  a  while  receive  in  their  full 
import,  because  we  know  they  would  lead  us 
whither  we  would  not.  Yet  they  come  again 
and  again,  offering  themselves  to  us,  like  the 
Sibyl  of  old,  each  time  under  harder  conditions, 
till  at  last  we  accept  them  on  their  own  terms. 
A  Christian  may  love  his  Master  truly,  and  be 
yet  unprepared  to  follow  him  whithersoever  he 
goeth.  How  can  two  walk  in  a  way  unless  they 
be  agreed?  and  the  enmity  between  Christ  and 
nature  is  not  yet  so  wholly  slain  but  that  there 
may  be  on  the  believer’s  part  conscious  shrink- 
ings  and  reservations :  he  knows  that  it  would 
be  hard  to  take  this  thing  up ;  hard,  perhaps  im¬ 
possible,  to  let  this  thing  go,  even  at  the  com- 

have  been  our  portion,  ‘  the  finest  of  the  wheat,  and  honey  out 
of  the  rock,’  and  that  Rock,  St.  Paul  tells  us,  was  Christ.  To 
hearken  diligently  unto  him,  to  walk  in  his  ways,  is  plainly  point¬ 
ed  out  as  the  means  through  which  we  first  obtain  victoiy  over 
our  spiritual  enemies,  and  then  arrive  at  the  feast  of  good  things, 
prepared  for  those  only  who  have  come  thus  far.  ‘  I  will  bring 
them  into  my  banqueting-house,  where  my  banner  over  them 
shall  be  love.’  ” — J.  E.  B. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


51 


mand  of  Christ  himself.  This  crisis  of  spiritual 
life,  full  of  pain  and  perplexity,  is  one  with 
which  our  Saviour  may  deeply  sympathize,  for 
he  knoweth  what  is  in  Man  ;  yet  it  is  none  the 
less  a  temper  wdiich  “  is  not  worthy  of  Him.” 
He  does  not  trust  himself  to  a  divided  heart,  and 
of  this  the  owner  of  such  a  heart  is  well  aware. 
So  that  there  arises  within  it  a  secret  craving  for 
w^hatever  may  detach  and  loosen  these  bonds, 
from  Avhich  no  effort  of  its  own  can  free  it, — 
a  desire  like  that  which  St.  Paul  so  fervently 
expresses  for  the  fellowship  of  his  Lord’s  suffer¬ 
ings,  the  conformity  to  his  Lords  death,  so  that 
by  any  means  it  may  attain  to  spiritual  resurrec¬ 
tion  with  him.  There  comes  a  moment  in 
which  the  soul,  awaking  up  into  the  sense  of 
the  deep  antagonism  between  grace  and  nature, 
will  exclaim,  as  seeing  no  other  way  of  deliver¬ 
ance,  “  Let  us  go  unto  Him,  that  w^e  may  also 
die  Avith  him  ”  ;  let  us  know  that  Ave  live  in 
Christ,  if  it  be  through  being  sharers  in  his  pain. 

“  They  Avere  all  baptized  in  the  cloud  and  in 
the  sea  ” ;  this  is  the  register  of  all  Christ’s 
chosen  ones,  the  pledge  of  their  initiation  into 
that  covenant  “  whose  promises,  whose  rewards, 
whose  very  beatitudes  are  sufferings.”  Why 
does  St.  Paul  so  rejoice,*  so  delight  himself  in 

*  Note  A. 


52 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


weakness,  in  persecution,  in  affliction,  but  be¬ 
cause  he  knows  that  without  these  he  can  attain 
to  no  close  intimacy  with  his  beloved  Lord? 
And  if  this  be  a  sore  lesson,  is  it  not  one  for 
which  the  heart  may  be  in  some  degree  pre¬ 
pared,  even  by  its  own  natural  experience  ?  Do 
not  trials  and  sorrows  (also,  it  is  true,  deep  joys) 
shared  between  two  friends,  partings,  dangers, 
above  all,  the  having  stood  together  in  the  pres¬ 
ence  of  death,  deepen  the  channel  of  our  affec¬ 
tion  in  deepening  that  of  our  existence?  Are 
not  such  moments  as  it  were  sacramental,  bring¬ 
ing  us  nearer  each  other  in  bringing  us  nearer 
God,  from  whom  the  poor  unrealities  of  time, 
unworthy  of  us  as  they  are  of  Him.,  too  much 
divide  us  ?  It  is  often  through  some  keen,  even 
desolating  shock,  the  blasting  of  the  breath  of 
God’s  chiding,  that  the  deep  foundations  of  our 
nature  are  first  discovered  to  us.  When  the 
veil  of  the  temple,  even  this  poor  worn  garment 
of  our  Humanity,  is  rent  from  the  top  to  the 
bottom,  we  catch  glimpses  of  the  inner  glory: 
the  rocks  are  riven,  the  graves  open,  they  who 
have  long  slept  in  the  dust  come  forth,  and 
reveal  to  us  awful  and  tender  secrets,  of  which 
otherwise  we  should  have  known  nothing. 
“They  who  love,”  as  says  St.  Chrysostom,  “if 
it  be  but  man,  not  God,”  will  know  what  1 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE, 


58 


mean,  wlien  I  speak  of  joys  springing  out  of 
the  very  heart  of  anguish,  and  holding  to  it 
by  a  common  and  inseparable  life;  will  under¬ 
stand  how  it  comes  that  the  pale  flowers  which 
thrust  themselves  out  of  the  ruins  of  hope,  of 
endeavor,  of  affection,  —  yes,  even  out  of  the 
mournful  wreck  of  intellect  itself,  —  should 
breathe  out  a  deep  and  intimate  fragrance,  such 
as  the  broad  wealth  of  air  and  sunshine  never 
yet  gave,  — 

“  For  in  things 

That  move  past  utterance,  tears  ope  all  their  springs, 

JVbr  are  there  in  the  powers  that  all  life  hears 
More  true  interpreters  of  all  than  tears.” 

It  needs  but  a  little  consideration  to  perceive 
that  devotion,  self-sacrifice,  all  the  higher  moods 
and  energies  even  of  natural  feeling,  are  only 
possible  to  seasons  of  adversity.  “  Deep  calleth 
unto  deep.”  We  need  not  look  far  into  Man’s 
nature  to  see  that  its  true  wealth  does  not  lie 
so  near  the  surface,  but  that  the  smooth,  grassy 
levels  of  prosperity  hide  riches  such  as  only  a 
shock  can  develop.  The  history  of  both  nations 
and  churches  shows  us  how  the  very  strain  and 
pressure  of  calamity  can  force  up  social  existence 
to  an  otherwise  unimaginable  height  of  noble¬ 
ness  ;  but  we  must  look  yet  deeper  than  this, 
to  understand  the  strange  affinity  which  Chris¬ 
tianity  has  at  all  times  betrayed  with  whatever 


54 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


is  most  contradictory  to  natural  feeling,  making 
it  to  choose  pain  and  weakness  and  infirmity  as 
its  natural  soil  an,d  climate.  And  here  experi¬ 
ence,  rather  than  reason,  must  be  our  guide  ;  for 
what  is  there  in  pain,  considered  in  itself,  that  is 
purifying,  far  less  ennobling  ?  Its  connection 
with  all  that  is  most  precious  to  Christian  life 
is  incidental  rather  than  inherent,  and  is  to  be 
traced  to  that  deep  original  wound  of  our  nature 
which  has  set  the  ideals  of  Christ  and  Humanity 
so  far  apart,  that  the  wealth  of  the  one  can  only 
be  attained  through  the  minishing  of  the  other. 
If  the  house  of  David  is  to  wax  stronger,  the 
house  of  Saul  must  wax  weaker  from  day  to  day. 
And  hence  it  is  that  every  fuller  development 
of  Christ’s  spirit  within  man  necessarily  takes  a 
self-subduing  character,  making  asceticism  under 
one  form  or  other  inseparable  from  the  true 
Christian  life.  For  the  glory  of  the  terrestrial  is 
one,  the  glory  of  the  celestial  is  another.  The 
triumph  of  Nature  lies  in  the  carrying  out  of 
its  own  will,  in  identification  with  some  crreat 
object,  in  adhesion  to  some  lofty  aim.  The 
triumph  of  Christ  is  placed  in  the  subjugation 
of  that  very  will,  in  acquiescence,  in  disen¬ 
tanglement  ;  in  the  stretching  forth  of  the 
hands,  so  that  another  may  gird  us  and  carry 
us  whither  we  would  not.^ 


*  Note  B. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


55 


The  character  which  Christ  forms  within  the 
heart  is  one  at  variance  with  onr  ideas  of  natu¬ 
ral  greatness ;  His  rule  opposes  itself  as  much 
to  the  higher  as  to  the  lower  instincts  of  nature. 
And  that  this  should  have  been  most  clearly 
seen  by  thinkers  looking  at  Christianity  from 
without,  ought  not  to  make  us  careless  of  the 
truths  they  disclose ;  for  intellectual  and  spiritual 
contemplation  alike  lead  up  to  clear,  calm  sum¬ 
mits,  and  upon  them  are  strange  meetings  un¬ 
dreamt  of  by  the  dwellers  in  the  valleys  and 
the  plains  below.  The  keen  intuition  of  the 
Thinker  places  him  in  possession  of  truths  which 
the  lowly  Christian  has  learned  upon  his  knees; 
and  though  these  two  may  distrust  and  be  mutu¬ 
ally  repelled  from  each  other,  they  have  none 
the  less  a  common  standing-ground,  — 

“  Their  speech  is  one,  their  witnesses  agree.” 

The  sober  Christian  may  possibly  feel  a  shock 
in  finding  Novalis  describe  his  faith  as  a  foe  “  to 
art,  to  science,  even  to  enjoyment  ” ;  yet  does 
not  his  own  daily  experience  prove  that  the 
holding  of  the  one  thing  needful  involves  the 
letting  go  of  many  things  lovely  and  desirable, 
and  that  in  thought,  as  well  as  in  action,  he 
must  go  on  ever  narrowing  his  way,  avoiding 
much  ”  ?  *  And  this,  not  because  his  intellect 


*  W.  B.  Scott. 


56 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


is  darkened  to  perceive  beauty  and  excellence, 
or  his  affections  dulled  to  embrace  them,  but 
because  human  life  and  human  capacity  are 
bounded  things  ;  the  heart  can  be  devoted  but 
to  one  object,  and  the  winning  of  the  great 
prizes  of  earthly  endeavor  asks  for  an  intensity 
of  purpose,  which  in  the  Christian  has  found 
another  centre. 

And  more  than  this,  the  rule  of  Christ  is  not 
only  exclusive  but  restrictive,  and  though  it 
would  carry  us  among  too  wide  and  distant 
fields  to  enter  upon  this  subject  as  it  deserves, 
we  need  not  look  far  into  either  literature  or  art 
to  see  to  how  many  of  their  happiest  energies 
this  rule  opposes  itself.  Their  spirit  is  a  free 
spirit,  impatient  of  any  yoke.  How  much,  for 
instance,  of  the  greatness  of  Shakespeare  and 
Goethe  consists  in  a  wide  Naturalism,  which,  ' 
as  it  were,  finds  room  within  it  for  all  things, 
not  oijly  depicting  them,  but  in  some  measure 
delighting  in  them,  as  they  are.  Could  this 
genial  abandonment  coexist  with  a  deepened 
moral  consciousness,  far  less,  surely,  with  the 
simplicity  and  severity  of  Christ  ? 

Again :  to  a  person  who  has  seen  in  Chris¬ 
tianity  a  certain  engaging  moral  and  social  as¬ 
pect,  and  has  not  looked  into  it  much  deeper, 
what  Goethe  says  of  it  as  being  “  founded  upon 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


57 


the  reverence  for  that  which  is  beneath  us,  the 
veneration  of  the  hated,  the  contradictory,  and 
the  avoided,”  will  appear  perverse  and  one¬ 
sided.  Yet  not  so,  surely,  to  him  who  has 
been  accustomed  to  recognize  his  Lord’s  features 
in  those  of  the  forlorn,  the  ignorant,  and  the  de¬ 
spised,  —  to  him  who  has  found  that  the  print  of 
his  Master’s  footsteps,  if  tracked  with  any  degree 
of  faithfulness,  will  carry  his  own  far  out  of  the 
path  of  pleasure  and  distinction,  and  leave  him 
amid  scenes  and  among  objects  in  which,  save 
for  this  powerful  attraction,  he  would  have  found 
nothing  to  delight  in  or  to  desire.  For  Chris¬ 
tianity,  though  it  may  at  certain  periods  and 
in  certain  persons  reveal  itself  under  a  splendid 
and  engaging  aspect,  so  as  to  command  the 
homage  *  of  the  world  with  which  it  is  at  vari¬ 
ance,  remains  true  to  its  first  conditions,  begin¬ 
ning  at  Bethlehem,  “  small  among  the  cities  of 
Judah,”  and  ending  upon  Calvary  between  the 
two  thieves.  Whenever  it  has  been  joined,  as  it 
has  been  joined  so  often,  with  the  pomp  and 
riches  and  glory  of  this  world,  this  has  been  but 
a  State-alliance,  from  which  its  heart  has  fled,  to 
the  cell  of  the  lonely  monk,  to  the  workshop  of 
the  humble  artisan,  to  some  little  band  of  perse¬ 
cuted  men,  —  to  such  as,  whether  solitary  or  in 
families,  — 

3  * 


*  Note  C. 


58 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


“  Loving  Jesus  for  his  own  sake,” 

have  been  content  for  his  sake  to  be  men  won¬ 
dered  at.'^  How  many  of  the  sparks  at  which 
great  fires  have  been  kindled,  even  now  enlight¬ 
ening  and  warming  the  world,  have  been  struck 
from  the  hearts  and  brains  of  men  counted  fools 
and  fanatics  in  their  own  generation  !  Christ  is 
favorable  to  the  simple  and  needy.  When  we 
look  into  His  kingdom,  we  see  that  many  of 
its  mightiest  enterprises,  now  ripening  to  evident 
perfection,  have  been  begun  by  a  few  gathered 
together  in  his  name,  and  these  few,  perhaps, 
neither  wise  nor  rich  nor  noble.  Yet  even 
now,  as  during  our  Lord’s  life  on  earth,  all  the 
lowliness  of  his  aspect  does  not  conceal  the  lofti¬ 
ness  of  his  claims,  nor  blind  the  world  to  the 

*  “  He  who  far  off  beholds  another  dancing, 

Even  he  who  dances  best,  and  all  the  time 
Hears  not  the  music  that  he  dances  to. 

Thinks  him  a  madman,  apprehending  not 
The  law  which  moves  his  else  eccentric  motion ; 

So  he  that ’s  in  himself  insensible 
Of  love’s  sweet  influence  misjudges  him 
Who  moves  according  to  love’s  melody. 

And  knowing  not  that  all  these  sighs  and  tears, 
Ejaculations  and  impatiences. 

Are  necessary  changes  of  a  measure 
Which  the  divine  musician  plays,  may  call 
The  lover  crazy,  which  he  would  not  do, 

Did  he  within  his  own  heart  hear  the  tune 
Played  by  the  great  musician  of  the  world." 

Calderoiv,  translated  by  Fitzgerald. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


59 


fact  that  these  are  the  claims  of  one  who,  com¬ 
ing  in  to  sojourn,  has  made  himself  altogether 
a  mler  and  a  judge  over  it.  “  Whom  makest 
thou  thyself?  ”  it  will  still  ask.  And  this  ques¬ 
tion  will  be  followed  by  a  demand,  prompted  by 
kindred  enmity,  “  Why  makest  thou  us  to 
doubt  ?  if  thou  be  the  Christ,  show  thyself 
openly.” 

And  there  is  much,  truly,  in  the  condition  of 
the  Church  since  our  Saviour  left  it  to  remind 
us  of  the  plant  Linnaeus  speaks  of,  —  perfect  in 
its  structure,  yet  showing  neither  fruit  nor  blos¬ 
som  above  the  earth,  though  it  puts  forth  many 
beneath  it,  blanched  from  the  darkness  of  their 
life.  “  It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall 
be.”  Humanity,  even  at  the  voice  of  Christ, 
comes  forth  bound  hand  and  foot  with  grave- 
clothes,  and  as  one  that  hath  been  dead  four 
days.  Therefore  we  need  not  wonder  if  in  such 
a  resurrection  there  should  be  paroxysms  ;  if 
there  should  be  in  every  great  awakening  unto 
Christ  something  to  give  room  for  the  scoffings 
of  the  profane,  the  doubts  and  surmisings  of  the 
prudent.  Christ  does  not  at  once  remove  the 
enmity  which  he  finds.  He  must  first  bind  the 
strong  man ;  and  before  the  strength  of  nature 
is  subdued  and  disciplined  to  carry  out  the 

behests  of  grace,  there  is  a  struggle,  —  revealing 

/ 


60 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


itself  among  the  poor  of  Christ’s  flock,  unused  to 
restrain  or  analyze  their  own  emotions,  in  forms 
which  may  appear  strange  and  exceptionable, 
but  from  which,  under  one  form  or  another, 
none  in  whose  spirit  Christ  lives  can  escape. 
For  the  heart  and  the  world,  until  renewed 
after  His  likeness,  are  still  heathen  in  all  but  in 
name ;  exorcism  must  precede  baptism,  and  the 
baptism  from  our  Lord’s  hand  is  that  wherewith 
he  himself  was  baptized, — signed  with  the  sign 
of  the  cross.* 

And  while  these  thoughts  throw  an  incidental 
light  upon  much  that  is  mysterious  in  our  spirit¬ 
ual  life,  they  draw  us  to  the  consideration  of 
that  deeper  mystery  which  underlies  it  all, — the 
structure,  the  schematism  of  our  faith,  which 
reveals  itself  through  the  fair  and  often  smiling 
surface  of  Christianity  as  the  gray  rock  in  some 
mountain  district  crowns  every  summit,  and 
thrusts  itself  even  through  the  sheep-covered 
slopes,  in  keen  contrast  with  their  peace  and 
verdure.  When  man  finds  that,  if  he  would  do 
God’s  wall,  however  imperfectly,  he  must  offer 
up  this  continual  sacrifice,  the  sacrifice  of  his  own 

*  Adalbert,  the  martyred  apostle  of  Prussia,  slain  by  the  fierce 
Wends,  stretched  forth  both  his  arras  in  dying,  saying,  “  Jesus, 
receive  thou  me,”  and  fell  with  his  face  to  the  ground  in  the 
form  of  a  cracifix,  thxis,  Carlyle  says,  setting  his  mark  upon  that 
heathen  country. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE.  61 

will.)  his  thoughts  are  irresistibly  carried  to  rest 
upon  that  One  offering  up  of  a  higher  than  any 
human  will,^  by  which  Christ  has  perfected  for¬ 
ever  them  that  are  sanctified.  The  more  deeply 
we  feel  the  existing  contradiction  between  God’s 
will  and  that  of  his  creature,  the  deeper  becomes 
our  sense  of  the  need  of  somewhat  to  take  it 
away,  so  that  the  heart  draws  near  to  a  truth 
unapproachable  by  the  intellect,  —  the  necessary 
death  of  Christ.  All  things  in  nature,  as  well 
as  all  things  in  grace,  point  to  a  Redeemer. 
Nature  struggles,  but  cannot  speak ;  she  remains 
in  bondage  with  her  children,  dumb  like  them, 
and  beautiful.  Humanity  has  found  a  voice  ; 
but  where,  save  for  Christ,  would  she  find  an 
answer  ?  She  has  showed  him  of  her  wound, 
her  grievous,  incurable  hurt;  and  how  has  he 
consoled  her  ?  Even  by  showing  her  His,  — 
“  Reach  hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it  into  my 
side.” 

And  as  the  law  was  our  schoolmaster  to  bring 
us  to  Christ,  so  does  our  daily  experience  be¬ 
come  a  school,  teaching  us  the  same  deep  lesson 
which  the  book  of  the  Old  Testament  unfolds. 
The  events  of  human  life,  and  the  great  facts 
which  revelation  discloses,  cast  reciprocal  light 
upon  each  other,  so  that  the  believer’s  course 


1 


*  See  Hebrews  x.  10. 


62 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


as  lie  advances  is  ever  instructing  him,  like  the 
Earlier  Dispensation,  through  hint  and  sign  and 
shadow,  in  the  mysteries  on  which  all  the  visible 
dealings  of  God  are  grounded. 

We  begin  to  see  that  the  whole  teaching  of 
the  human  race  by  God  is  based,  like  the  pro¬ 
phetic  songs  of  the  Old  Covenant,  upon  a  gigan¬ 
tic  parallelism ;  *  that  as  the  Type  is  not  a  mere 
Sign,  hut  has  a  real  f  though  unseen  connection 
with  the  fact  it  shadows  forth,  so  has  that  fact 
also  its  correlative  lying  deep  in  the  nature  of 
God  and  man,  and  testifying  to  the  essential 
unity  of  those  natures.  And  as  through  the 
awful  imagery  which,  under  the  rites  and  cere¬ 
monies  of  the  Old  Dispensation,  prefigured  the 
stupendous  event  of  Redemption,  we  discern  a 
mighty  underworking  which  threw  these  figures 
of  sacrifice  and  atonement  to  the  surface,  and 
could  not  have  appeared  in  any  other  ;  so,  as  our 
Christian  consciousness  deepens,  do  the  things 

*  Note  D. 

t  Differing  in  this  from  a  symbol,  which,  being  merely  an  idea 
shown,  a  species  of  shorthand  or  figure- writing,  need  possess,  it  is 
obvioiTS,  no  other  than  an  arbitrary  connection  with  the  thing  it 
stands  for.  A  rose,  for  instance,  once  adopted,  for  whatever 
reason,  as  the  emblem  of  secrecy,  always  conveys  that  idea  to 
the  mind  which,  in  the  absence  of  any  natural  association  be¬ 
tween  the  two  things,  has  once  received  them  in  connection. 
But  it  is  far  otherwise  with  a  Type,  which  is,  as  Warburton 
says,  “  a  prophecy  in  action,  one  in  nature  with  that  which  it 
represents.”  —  See  on  this  subject  the  Divine  Legation,  9th  Book. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


63 


with  which  we  are  daily  conversant  take  up  a 
mute  significance ;  so  does  all  in  life,  that  once 
appeared  without  hearing  on  our  higher  desti¬ 
nies,  begin  to  arrange  itself  in  the  pattern 
of  heavenly  things,  “  the  pattern  showed  us  in 
the  mount.” 

And  though  the  great  events  of  Incarnation 
and  Redemption,  casting  light  upon  all  that  had 
gone  before  them,  need  themselves.,^  according 
to  Gaussen’s  fine  saying,  to  he  illumined  hy  a 
light  not  yet  risen.,  though  the  Dispensation  of 
glory  has  yet  to  illustrate  that  of  grace,  it  is  in 
the  heart  that  the  day-star  must  now  arise. 

And  in  every  believing  heart,  the  gradual 
turning  of  that  heart  to  Christ  casts  as  it  were 
an  oblique  light  on  the  sacred  revelations  of 
Scripture,  by  awakening  within  it  the  sense  of 
sin,  the  need  of  expiation,  and  the  want  of  a 
better  righteousness  than  our  own  to  meet  a 
standard  which  even  man,  when  once  renewed 
in  aim  and  feeling,  consciously  aspires  to.  So 
that  the  heart  accepts  Christ  because  it  needs 
him,  even  while  the  mind  may  be  unable  to 
receive  him  fully,  because  the  orbit  of  this  Star 
is  so  extended  as  to  carry  beyond  it  the  sphere 
of  human  intelligence.  “  For  to  this  end  Jesus 
Christ  both  died  and  suffered,  and  rose  again. 


^  Note  E. 


64 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  the  living  and 
the  dead.”  We  know  not  upon  how  many 
points  Redemption  touches  ;  what  unseen 
worlds,  what  unborn  generations,  what  unde¬ 
veloped  forms  of  being  it  embraces.  We  know 
not  to  what  Warfare,  to  what  Accomplish¬ 
ment,  our  Lord  referred  when  he  spoke  those 
words,  “It  is  finished.”  We  know  not,  in  short, 
as  Butler  says,  what  in  the  works  and  coun¬ 
sels  of  God  are  ends,  and  what  means  to  a  fur¬ 
ther  end,  or  how  what  appears  to  us  as  final 
may  be  initial  with  Him.  But  we  see  enough 
around  us,  and  within  us,  to  show  that  it  was 
necessary  that  Christ  should  suffer  many  things, 
and  after  that  enter  into  his  glory ;  enough  to 
learn  that  we  shall  find  no  higher  thing  above, 
shall  pierce  to  no  deeper  thing  below,  than  the 
Cross  and  its  solemn  and  tender  teachings.  If 
we  would  climb  up  into  heaven,  it  is  there ;  if 
we  would  go  down  into  hell,  it  is  there  also. 
He  alone  among  men  who  has  clasped  this  great 
mystery  of  grief  and  love  to  his  bosom  sees,  if  it 
be  as  yet  but  through  a  glass  darkly,  how  pain 
and  love,  yes,  joy  also,  all  things  that  have  a 
living  root  in  humanity  come  to  bloom  under  its 
shadow.  And  how  love  that  cannot  die,  and 
faith  that  grows  to  certainty,  and  hope  that 
maketh  not  ashamed,  root  themselves  about  it. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


65 


with  all  fair  things  that  wither  in  life,  and 
noble  things  for  which  it  has  no  room.  ‘‘  I 
took,”  said  Luther,  “  for  the  symbol  of  my 
theology,'  a  seal  on  which  I  had  engraven  a 
cross  with  a  heart  in  its  centre ;  the  cross  is 
black,  to  indicate  the  sorrows,  even  unto  death, 
through  which  the  Christian  must  pass,  hut  the 
heart  preserves  its  natural  color.)  for  the  cross 
does  not  extinguish  nature,  it  does  not  kill,  but 
gives  life.  Justus  fide  vivet^  sed  fide  crucifixi. 
The  heart  is  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  white  rose, 
which  signifies  the  joy,  peace,  and  consolation 
that  faith  gives ;  hut  the  rose  is  whiter  and  not  red, 
because  it  is  not  the  joy  and  peace  of  the  world, 
but  that  of  spirits.” 

‘‘  Whoso  is  wise  will  ponder  these 
things,  and  he  shall  un¬ 
derstand  the  loving¬ 
kindness  of  the 
Lord.” 


E 


Show  me  more  love,  my  dearest  Lord, 

0,  turn  away  thy  clouded  face  I 

Give  me  some  secret  look  or  word 
That  may  betoken  love  and  grace; 

No  day  or  time  is  black  to  me 

But  that  wherein  I  see  not  Thee; 

Show  me  more  love ;  a  clouded  face 
Strikes  deeper  than  an  angry  blow. 

Love  me  and  kill  me  by  thy  grace, 

I  shall  not  much  bewail  my  woe. 

But  even  to  be 
In  heaven  unloved  of  Thee 
Were  hell  in  heaven  for  to  see; 

Then  hear  my  cry,  and  help  afford ; 

Show  me  more  love,  my  dearest  Lord. 

Show  me  more  love,  my  dearest  Lord, 

I  cannot  think,  nor  speak,  nor  pray ; 

Thy  work  stands  still ;  my  strength  is  stored 
In  Thee  alone ;  0  come  away ! 

Show  me  thy  beauties,  call  them  mine, 

My  heart  and  tongue  will  soon  be  thine. 

Show  me  more  love,  or  if  my  heart 
Too  common  be  for  such  a  guest, 

Let  thy  good  Spirit  by  its  art 
Make  entry  and  put  out  the  rest. 

For  ’tis  thy  nest; 

Then  he ’s  of  heaven  possest 
That  heaven  hath  in  his  breast. 

Then  hear  my  cry,  and  help  afford; 

Show  me  more  love,  my  dearest  Lord ! 


Part  Secon 


“  And  Joseph  knew  his  brethren, 

But  they  knew  not  him.” 

Gen.  xlii.  8. 


i 


PART  II. 

HEN  the  Past  and  the  Future  cheat 
us,  it  is  through  a  charm  to  which 
we  consciously  abandon  ourselves : 
we  know  how  much  the  landscape 
gains  in  each  case  from  the  atmosphere  through 
which  we  view  it.  But  the  Present  is  the  true 
deceiver;  its  clear,  cold  daylight  hides  much, 
in  appearing  to  conceal  nothing  from  r^s,  for  it 
is  possible  to  look  at  things  so  closely  as  not  to 
see  what  they  really  are.  We  catch  the  mean 
detail ;  we  miss  the  grand,  comprehensive  out¬ 
line.  We  riiust  stand  farther  off,  so  that  we  may 
see  the  whole.  “  When  the  great  Athanasius 
lived  on  earth,”  says  Pascal,  “  he  did  not  appear 
in  the  light  in  which  we  now  regard  him  ;  he 
was  only  a  man  called  Athanasius.”  Yet  was 
the  great  Athanasius  the  true  Athanasius,  And 
even  thus  greatness  ever  stands  among  us,  as 
“  one  whom  we  know  not  ”  ;  know  not,  even 
because  we  think  we  know  it  so  well. 


70 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


And  as  of  individuals,  so  of  ages.  It  seems 
hard  to  be  generous,  not  easy  even  to  be  just, 
to  the  times  upon  which  our  lot  is  cast.  The 
very  expression  “  our  present  day  ”  conveys 
with' it  somewhat  of  disparagement,  implying  a 
contrast  with  other  ages  in  whose  very  silence 
we  find  an  eloquence  rebuking  the  clamor  that 
surrounds  us.  Yet  much  that  we  now  look 
upon  as  prosaic,  and  perhaps  decry  as  unreal,  if 
read  as  history,  would  enchain  our  imaginations ; 
if  spoken  as  prophecy,  would  stir  our  very  souls. 
Future  chroniclers  will  make  it  their  wisdom  to 
decipher  the  Runes  we  are  now  dinting,  and 
will  understand  their  import  better  than  we  who 
leave  them  on  the  rock. 

Ours  is  a  sober  enthusiasm,  patient  because  it 
is  so  strong.  A  Work  is  set  before  the  day  we 
live  in,  a  Necessity  is  laid  upon  it ;  it  sees  and 
accepts  its  calling,  content  to  labor  in  the  thick 
smoke,  and  weary  itself  among  the  very  fires 
of  speculation.  Let  but  our  age  apprehend  a 
cause,  or  an  idea,  as  worthy  of  its  devotion,  and 
it  will  not  fail  to  be  furnished  with  apostles,  with 
confessors,  yes,  if  need  be,  with  martyrs  ;  so 
strong  is  the  passion  of  its  onward  march,  so 
steadfast  the  ardor  of  its  perseverance.  And 
thus  in  how  many  a  fair  and  still  extending 
region  of  human  thought  and  labor  we  have 
already  arrived 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


71 


“  At  the  winning  and  the  holding  of  a  prize, 

The  hope  of  which  would  have  been  once  deemed  madness.” 

But  with  our  spiritual  and  moral  conquests 
it  has  surely  fared  less  brightly  ;  here,  among 
many  leaders,  we  have  as  yet  no  Columbus, 
“  the  naked  pilot,  promiser  of  kingdoms,”  be¬ 
stowing  more  than  he  had  promised  ;  no  proph¬ 
ets,  such  as  science  has  been  blessed  with,  who 
have  lived  to  see  the  wonder  of  their  dream 
surpassed  by  its  sober  interpretation.  Yet  ours 
is  none  the  less  an  age  of  generous  experi¬ 
ments,  of  failures  more  noble  than  the  successes 
to  which  the  world  decrees  a  Triumph.  How 
many  laborers  are  now  among  us,  literally  water¬ 
ing  God’s  garden  with  their  foot !  —  a  holy  and 
blessed  work  ;  hut  one  in  which  we  must  not 
forget  that  the  country  in  which  our  work  lies 
is  a  land  rich  in  itself^  full  of  fountains  and 
depths  springing  out  of  its  own  hills  and  valleys, 
“  a  land  that  drinketh  water  of  the  rain  of 
heaven.”  You  say  to  me  in  one  of  your  letters, 
“  We  hear  so  much  around  us  of  doings,  so 
much  of  Christian  exertion  and  charitable  en¬ 
deavor,  that  in  witnessing  the  comparatively 
small  result  of  much  devoted  labor,  I  have  been 
led  to  believe  that  we  work  too  much  upon  the 
surface.  The  waters  of  life  lie  below  it,  and 
few  pierce  deep  enough  to  unlock  them  for  them- 


72 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE, 


selves  or  others.  Our  endless  external  reforms 
are,  after  all,  only  channels,  too  often  dry  ones, 
while  every  believer  in  whom  his  Lord’s  promise 
has  been  fulfilled,  ‘  I  will  be  to  him  a  well  of 
water,  springing  up  into  everlasting  life,’  is  a 
fountain,  hidden  it  may  be  to  the  eye,  but  dis¬ 
cernible  in  the  greenness  and  moisture  that  sur¬ 
round  it.” 

We  have  more  than  enough  of  systems,  of 
machinery,  which,  whether  more  or  less  perfect, 
will  not  go  of  itself.  We  may  have  done  all 
that  of  ourselves  we  can  do,  and  the  moving 
spring  may  yet  be  wanting.^  “  The  spirit  of 
the  living  creature  in  the  wheels '' 

And  just  where  our  national  dread  of  enthu¬ 
siasm  is  the  strongest,  we  have  surely  many 
enthusiasts  among  us  ;  soldiers  who  go  upon  a 
spiritual  warfare  at  their  own  cost,  and  builders 
who  expect  with  such  materials  as  earth  can 
furnish  to  reach  even  unto  heaven.  Yet  God 
is  a  spirit,  and  Man  is  also  a  spirit,  and  all  work 
that  is  done  between  God  and  Man  must  be 
done  in  the  spirit,  —  must  be  wrought  from  the 
centre  outwards.  The  life  that  lies  at  the  cir¬ 
cumference  of  its  guiding  idea  lies  there  but  in 
faint  outline,  feebly  drawn,  like  the  outermost 
ripple  on  disturbed  waters.  We  are  anxious  to 


*  Ezekiel  i.  19,  20;  x.  16,  17. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


73 


spread  the  knowledge  of  God.  This  is  our 
worh^  the  end  to  which  Christian  exertion  is 
chiefly  directed,  but  before  we  can  pursue  it  to 
any  true  result,  God  must  also  work  a  work 
witlin  us,  upon  the  deepening  of  which  the  ex¬ 
tension  of  Christ’s  kingdom  naturally,  inevitably 
foll(^ws.  For  they  who  are  rooted  in  the  Lord 
will  in  him  bud  and  blossom,  and  fill  the  face  of 
the  earth  with  fruit.  All  who  have  ever  been 
stropg  for  God,  have  been  strong  in  Him.,  and 
havp  known  too,  as  Samson  did,  where  the 
secret  of  their  strength  lay,  —  in  a  dependence 
out  pf  which  they  would  have  been  consciously 
w^eak,  and  as  other  men.  The  Church  has 
always  borne  witness  to  this  truth ;  her  every 
prayer  and  confession  proves  that  she  has  seen 
how  it  is  that  which  binds  her  to  her  Lord,  that 
strengthens  her  in  him,  so  that  the  chains  which 
are  about  her  neck  have  become  “  an  ornament 
of  grace  upon  her  head.”  But  here,  too,  she 
may  take  a  lesson  where  her  Lord  has  sent  her 
to  look  for  it. 

Even  from  this  Generation.  Full  of  faith  and 
power  in  the  resources  of  human  energy,  and 
in  that  faith  and  power  working  marvels,  if  it 
believed  in  God  as  firmly  as  it  does  in  itself, 
the  seed  it  would  raise  to  serve  Him  would  be 
of  no  degenerate  stock,  and  the  Church  would 


74 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE, 


once  more,  as  in  the  days  of  its  youth,  take  up 
its  ancient  hero-song,  sweeter  than  was  ever 
earthly  Saga.  But  are  we  as  Christians  what 
we  are  as  men  ? 

God  has  showed  us  earthly  things,  and  we 
have  believed.  Man  has  taken  his  own  meas¬ 
ure,  and  found  it  “  the  measure  of  an  angel.”  * 
Human  intelligence,  once  a  bold  guesser  /Lfter 
unproven  truth,  has  learned  the  extent  of  its 
own  resources ;  hence  its  sure,  yet  extended 
aims,  and  hence  its  glorious  acquisitions.  Opin¬ 
ions  with  us  are  rooted  and  seeded  things,  able 
to  raise  up  the  life  which  they  contain  within 
them.  We  embrace  facts,  not  abstractions;  we 
live  as  men  in  the  reality  of  that  which  we  specu¬ 
latively  accept  as  true.  But  can  we  say  this  for 
ourselves  as  Christians  ?  Have  we  believed 
when  God  has  showed  us  heavenly  things,  or 
yet  taken  the  measure  of  a  man  in  Christ? 
Are  we  as  conversant  with  the  Second  Adam  as 
with  the  First ;  as  familiar  with  the  capabilities 
of  the  renewed  spirit  as  with  those  of  the  liv¬ 
ing  soul  ?  The  facts  of  revelation  are  accepted. 
The  Gospel  is  made  the  basis  of  law  and  of 
society ;  it  is  a  framework  holding  all  together  ; 
a  code,  like  the  great  Roman  one,  upon  which 
the  mediaeval  world  kept  its  hold  so  long  after 


*  E.  B.  Browning. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


75 


the  power  and  spirit  of  the  empire  were  but  a 
tradition . 

But  how  few  among  us  are  of  it  upholden. 
How  few,  fastening  upon  God  through  the  aw¬ 
ful  relations  it  discloses,  can  say  from  the  deep 
and  ground  of  the  heart,  “  O  Lord,  hy  these 
men  live,  and  in  them  is  the  life  of  the  Spirit.” 
And  thus  a  strange  weariness  overtakes  us ;  * 

*  I  leave  these  words  as  they  were  written.  Yet,  since  then, 
even  within  the  last  few  years,  a  change  has  come,  far  more  grad¬ 
ually  than  is  generally  supposed,  over  the  climate  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  world;  as  if  some  mighty  current,  like  the  Gulf  Stream,  had 
set  in,  sending  a  warm  breath  across  the  universal  Church,  and 
breaking  up  the  deadly  ice  of  ages  of  unbelief  and  indifference. 
And  though  this  change  may  be,  and  will  be,  accompanied  with 
shocks  and  splittings,  it  is  surely  the  prudent,  not  the  wise  Chris¬ 
tian,  who  will  on  this  account  withdraw  himself  from  its  wide, 
soul-enlarging  influence.  For  it  is  evident  that  this  is  not  a  work 
of  extension  only ;  in  every  community,  and  in  every  heart  where 
God  has  already  had  a  work,  that  work  has  been  lately  deepened. 
“  The  river  of  God  is  full  of  water.”  He  has  not  only  sent  rain 
upon  the  dwellings  in  the  wilderness,  but  caused  it  to  descend 
into  furrows  long  since  drawn.  Experienced  Christians  are  the 
natural  guides  and  comforters  of  those  whose  hearts  have  been 
but  lately  made  soft  with  the  drops  of  heaven;  in  every  Pente¬ 
costal  outpouring  there  is  something  to  recall  the  deep  uncon¬ 
scious  truth  of  that  saying,  “  These  men  are  full  of  new  wine  ” ; 
and  it  is  their  part  to  see  that  the  wine  is  not  spilled,  neither  the 
bottles  marred.  And  while  it  is  easy  to  cavil  at  the  phenomena 
connected  more  or  less  remotely  with  this  change,  the  fact,  not  to 
he  affected  by  any  of  them,  remains,  that  a  great  moral  and  spiritual 
change  is  taking  place  at  our  very  doors;  that  the  poor  among 
men  are  rejoicing  in  their  Maker;  that  multitudes  of  people  are 
at  this  very  moment  lifting  up  praying  hearts,  and  this,  for  no 
temporal  blessing,  no  sectarian  end,  but  simply  for  the  clearer 


76 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


uneasy  in  ourselves,  we  do  not  find  rest  in  God, 
and  become  aware  of  a  deep  question,  underly¬ 
ing  all  the  shallow  ones  that  now  vex  the  cur¬ 
rent  of  religious  speculation.  We  feel,  each 
one  of  us  for  himself,  that  the  point  at  issue  is 
still  concerning  “  one  Jesus,”  whether  we  shall 
say  with  the  world  that  he  is  dead,  or  with 
Paul  steadfastly  affirm  him  to  be  alive,  and  still 
the  resurrection  of  the  spiritually  dead,  the  life 
of  them  that  believe.  For  human  society  is 
even  now,  as  in  the  days  when  the  Gospel  was 
first  preached,  made  up  of  Greeks  enthralled  by 
outward  sense,  of  Jews  resting  in  an  outward 
law ;  and  out  of  the  midst  of  these  a  people  has 

light  of  Christ’s  Cross,  the  fuller  manifestation  of  His  Presence. 
“  I  will  hear,  saith  the  Lord ;  I  will  hear  the  heavens,  and  they 
shall  hear  the  earth  ” ;  the  heart  of  man  seems  set  upon  attaining 
to  this  closer  correspondence  with  his  Maker,  set,  too,  upon  ob¬ 
taining  it  through  the  Man  whom  he  hath  sent.  They  who  seek 
the  Lord  shall  praise  him.  On  all  sides  there  is  a  sound  of  abun¬ 
dance  of  rain;  so  that  the  Christian  feels  that,  deep  and  many  as 
may  be  the  trials  yet  in  store  for  the  Church,  it  has  turned  over, 
perhaps  forever,  one  leaf  of  sorrowful  experience,  that  of  its  long 
ploughing  in  the  cold,  each  laborer  apart,  and  uncoinmunicating. 
The  days  of  harvest  are  sultry  and  arduous,  but  the  reapers  work 
in  bands,  and  are  cheered  by  many  a  song:  — 

“  ‘  Brother,  take  thy  brothers  with  thee,’ 

Speak  the  silver-winding  brooklets 
To  the  mighty  mountain  torrent; 

‘  Take  us  with  thee  to  the  ocean 

That  with  outstretched  arms  awaits  us,  — 

Oft,  alas !  in  vain  awaits  us. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


77 


need  to  be  yet  more  fully  called,  to  find  Him 
who  is  the  end  of  the  law  to  every  one  that 
believeth ;  “  Christ  the  power  of  God,  and 
Christ  the  wisdom  of  God.” 

Even  now,  said  St.  John,  speaking  of  his  own 
day,  there  are  many  Antichrists.  Since  then 
there  have  been  many  forms  of  denial,  sundry 
kinds  of  spiritual  death.  Christ  has  long  stood 
in  this  world’s  judgment-hall,  and  suffered  many 
things  from  them  that  throng  it.  From  age  to 
age  false  witnesses  have  risen  up,  laying  to  his 
charge  things  that  he  knew  not.  He  has  heard 
the  defaming  of  the  multitude,  and  borne  in  his 
bosom  the  rebukes  of  many  peoples  long  gath- 


For  in  sandy  wastes  we  filter 
Drop  by  drop,  until  the  sunbeams 
Drink  our  blood ;  until  some  hillock 
Locks  us  to  a  pool.  0  take  us, 
Brother,  with  thee !  ’  Then  for  answer 
Swells  the  Flood,  and  on  its  bosom 
Lifts  its  kindred,  lifts  and  bears  them 
In  its  rolling  triumph  down. 

Lands  take  Name,  and  cities  Being 
From  its  ceaseless  march;  behind  it 
Tower  and  turret  rise;  upon  it 
Float  the  goodly  ships  of  cedar, 

Fair,  with  many  a  flying  pennon 
Waving  witness  to  its  pride. 

Bearing  in  its  joyful  tumult, 

Bearing  still  its  brothers  with  it, 

These  its  treasures,  these  its  children. 
To  the  waiting  Father's  heart." 


78 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


ered  to  the  dust  of  silence.  But  the  day  of  in¬ 
solent  derision  is  over,  and  it  is  after  another 
manner  that  we  behold  Christ  rejected,  and  set 
at  naught  by  this  generation.  We  are  met, 
comparatively  speaking,  by  little  direct  opposi¬ 
tion  to  revealed  religion ;  its  moral  teaching  is 
respected ;  the  sacred  person  of  its  Founder  is 
held  in  reverence ;  it  is  as  a  power  that  Chris¬ 
tianity  is  denied.*  Our  age  has  nothing  in  com¬ 
mon  with  the  degrading  scepticism  of  the  past 
century,  which  cast  its  scorn  up  to  God  through 
the  foul  dishonoring  of  His  image.  We  believe, 
as  I  have  said,  in  Man ;  and  our  noble  and  ten¬ 
der  faith  in  Humanity  is  one  which  works  by 
love,  showing  itself  in  persevering  and  arduous 
efforts  after  social  amelioration.  But  here  also 
we  may  find  a  fulfilment  of  our  Lord’s  saying,  — 

*  The  lightest  leaf  will  show  the  way  the  wind  is  setting,  and 
I  know  not  where  we  are  met  by  a  plainer  expression  of  this 
tacit,  and  in  some  degree  respectful  denial,  than  in  the  popular 
literature  of  our  day.  Here  we  see  a  systematic  ignoring  of 
Christianity,  combined  with  a  rather  inconsistent  exaltation  of 
the  benevolent  aspect  peculiarly  belonging  to  it.  We  find  in  such 
writings  many  fiowers  to  please  us,  but  see  that,  as  in  a  child’s 
garden,  they  are  stuck  into  the  ground  by  their  stalks  only,  and 
have  not  grown  where  we  now  see  them.  We  know  that  even  the 
lily  floating  on  the  waters,  the  orchid  hanging  in  the  air,  keeps  a 
tenacious  yet  unseen  hold  upon  something  beyond  itself,  without 
which  its  nourishment  and  life  would  fail ;  and  all  this  bloom  and 
verdure  is  suggestive  of  a  root,  possessing,  it  may  be,  no  beauty 
for  which  we  should  desire  it,  yet  detached  from  which  the  leaf 
of  humanity  will  wither  and  its  flower  fade. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


79 


“  I  am  come  in  my  Father’s  name,  and  ye  re¬ 
ceive  me  not ;  another  will  come  in  his  own 
name,  him  shall  ye  receive.”  The  prophets 
who  come  in  their  own  name,  the  apostles  of 
human  development,  of  social  progress,  find  a 
willing  hearing  ;  but  where  is  our  recognition  of 
a  divinely  appointed  agency  ?  where  is  our  faith 
in  that  which  hath  appeared  to  man  ? 

But  because  we  believe  in  Man ;  because  we 
reason,  if  not  always  aright,  of  truth,  of  beauty, 
of  perfection,  and  are  full  of  reverence,  full  of 
pity  for  the  nature  in  which  we  find  ourselves  so 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  fashioned ;  because  our 
age,  with  all  its  wants  and  errors,  is  still  a  lov¬ 
ing,  a  believing,  an  essentially  human  age,  there 
shall  yet  come  to  pass  concerning  it  the  saying 
which  is  written,  “  In  that  day  shall  A  man  be 
more  precious  than  gold,  than  the  golden  wedge 
of  Ophir.”  The  heart  of  this  age  is  in  its  right 
place,  and  with  that  heart  it  may  yet  believe 
unto  righteousness,  and  escape  the  downward 
path  towards  which  so  many  of  its  intellectual 
tendencies  are  dragging  it.  We  have  not  yet 
drawn  forth  the  true  bitterness  of  the  fruit 
whose  mortal  taste  is  already  so  plainly  to  he 
discerned  among  us,  or  many  a  yet  noble  and 
tender  spirit  would  exclaim,  “  Let  not  the  pit 
shut  her  mouth  upon  me,”  —  Materialism,  the 


80 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


grave  of  all  that  is  human,  as  well  as  of  all 
that  is  heavenly,  within  man.  The  heart  craves 
what  the  world  would  take  from  it ;  Man  needs 
what  no  system  invented  by  man  has  yet  prom¬ 
ised,  far  less  given,  —  a  Comforter,  an  enlight¬ 
ening,  guiding  Spirit,  wanting  which  he  remains 
a  mockery  even  to  himself,  the  sport  of  circum¬ 
stance,  a  Samson  blind  and  fettered  in  the  hall 
of  the  Philistines.  ^'‘The  world  knows  hut  a 
Creator^  spirits  claim  a  Father.’’^  And  O  that 
we  could  see  that  He  has  already  come  forth  to 
meet  us  ;  that  we  could,  even  in  this  our  day, 
perceive  the  season  of  our  heavenly  visitation, 
and  see  to  what  its  rejection  tends,  —  a  moral 
atheism,  blotting  out  God  from  the  region  of 
spiritual  life,  as  surely  as  the  denial  of  a  Per¬ 
sonal  cause  excludes  Him  from  the  visible 
world. 

“  There  is  a  Spirit  in  man,”  faithful  to  its  in¬ 
stincts  even  when  astray  as  to  their  true  object ; 
it  wanders  often,  yet  feels  through  very  sadness 
and  weariness  how  far  it  has  got  from  home. 
And  hence  come  those  utterances  (of  which  you 
tell  me),  strange  prophetic  voices,  a  groaning 
and  travail-pain  of  Humanity,  which,  even  in  the 
hearts  of  those  who  reject  revelation,  testify  to 
its  waiting  for  some  great  Redemption.  If  man 
refuses  the  bread  which  came  down  from  heav- 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


81 


en,  never  was  it  so  hard  for  him  to  live  “hy 
bread  alone  ”  as  now.  His  very  wealth  and  in¬ 
crease  has  brought  with  it  a  sense  of  poverty,  — 
because  he  has  become  rich,  and  increased  in 
goods,  he  knows,  as  he  did  not  before,  that  he  is 
wretched,  and  miserable,  and  blind,  and  naked. 
The  energy  of  his  wrestling  with  the  things  of 
time  and  sense  has  awakened  instincts  of  which 
but  for  the  ardor  of  that  struggle  he  might 
have  known  little.  He  conquers  kingdoms,  and 
weeps  like  the  ancient  conqueror.  The  world 
which  he  has  vanquished  cannot  satisfy  him. 
He  feels  himself  to  be  greater  than  the  universe, 
yet  feebler  than  the  meanest  thing  within  it 
which  can  follow  the  appointed  law  of  its  being. 
The  splendor  of  his  material  acquisitions  is  but 
a  robe  too  short  and  thin  to  wrap  him  from  cold 
and  shame.  He  can  do  great  things,  but  what 
is  he  ?  To  have  all,  and  to  die  saying,  “  Is  this 
all  f  ”  is  the  epitaph  of  many  a  rich  and  wasted 
life.  Every  fresh  region  man  breaks  into  re¬ 
veals  new  wonders,  and  with  them  new  enig¬ 
mas,  calling  upon  him  to  solve  them  or  perish. 
There  is  a  social  complication,  a  pressure  in  our 
present  day,  which  is  not  to  be  answered  by  an 
unmeaning  clamor  against  rational  enlighten¬ 
ment.  We  cannot  stay  the  current  that  is  bear¬ 
ing  us  onwards  so  swiftly,  but  we  may  guide 

4  #  p 


82 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


our  course  upon  it,  looking  to  the  stars  above. 

“  Light  is  good,”  good  for  its  own  sake,  what¬ 
ever  it  may  show  us.  In  an  anxious  and  inquir¬ 
ing  age,  “  when  men  shall  run  to  and  fro,  and 
knowledge  be  increased,”  we  are  told  that  “  the 
wise  shall  understand.”  They  shall  find  their 
safety,  not  in  placing  faith  and  science  in  an  un¬ 
real  opposition,  not  in  closing  their  eyes  to  the 
revelation  of  God’s  power,  but  in  opening  their 
hearts  to  the  secrets  of  his  wisdom  “  double  to 
that  which  is.”  * 

And,  now  especially  that  thought  and  authori¬ 
ty  are  at  open  issue  upon  many  questions,  may 
not  some  among  us,  ever  ready  to  judge  those 
who  are  without,  lay  to  heart  the  solemn  decla¬ 
ration  of  the  Apostle,  that  judgment  must  begin 
at  the  house  of  God !  It  is  so  easy  to  be  ortho¬ 
dox  in  creed  and  statement ;  so  safe  to  rest  in 
a  1  merely  traditionary  belief,  that  many  a  deco¬ 
rous  Christian  fails  to  perceive  the  sure  though 
invisible  connection  between  the  lip-confession 
and  life-denial  of  a  merely  outward  profession, 
and  the  broader  form  of  denial  by  which  all  • 
such  profession  is  derided.  Yet  between  Christ 
mocked  and  Christ  rejected  there  is  but  a  step ; 
—  who  shall  say  how  easily  it  is  taken,  or  how 
quickly  we  may  pass  from  the  hollow  homage, 


*  Job  xi.  6. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


83 


the  “  Hail,  Master !  ”  which  mocks  our  Lord, 
to  the  smiting  and  buffeting  of  open  outrage? 
When  Christ  is  invested  with  but  the  show  of 
sovereignty,  the  reed  placed  in  his  hands  will 
be  quickly  taken,  as  by  the  soldiers,  to  smite 
his  head.  Tlds  reed  is  nominal  Christianity.,  a 
strange  slip  of  a  degenerate  vine,  beneath  whose 
blighting  shadow  a  poison-growth  of  unbelief 
never  fails  to  root  itself. 

And  it  is  certain  that  this  most  mournful 
characteristic  of  our  age  —  the  disposition  to 
think  slightingly  of  Christianity,*  to  ask  it  what 
it  has  done  or  can  do  for  the  world  —  has  been 
helped  forward  by  a  w'ant  on  the  part  of  the 
professing  Church  of  whole-hearted  faith  in  its 
renewing.,  transforming  energies.  Is  it  strange 
that  the  supernatural  revelations  of  the  Gospel 
should  be  looked  upon  as  foolishness  by  the 
world,  while  they  remain  —  who  shall  say  to 
how  many  among  us  —  a  stumbling-block,  one 
that  we  dare  not  remove  ?  but  surely  there  are 

^  When  Jesus  was  taken  before  Herod,  the  king  hoped,  it  is 
said,  to  have  seen  some  great  thing  done  by  him,  “  and  he  ques¬ 
tioned  him  in  many  words,  and  He  answered  him  nothing.”  The 
attitude  of  our  day  is  not  that  of  an  utter  rejection  of  Christianity. 
Like  Herod  we  appreciate  and  examine  into  it,  questioning  it  in 
many  words  as  to  what  it  can  do  for  the  world,  just  as  we  put  the 
same  question  to  the  schemes  of  science  and  philosophy.  But  to 
an  age  which,  like  Herod,  is  deficient  in  real  faith  in  its  Author, 
Christianity  often  answers  —  nothing.  —  J.  E.  B. 


84 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


systems  now  in  favor,  temples  made  with  hands, 
into  which  we  find  it  hard  to  fit  the  stone  cut 
from  the  rock  without  hands.  Human  nature 
has  been  ever  in  love  with  a  modified  Chris¬ 
tianity,  slow  to  receive  Divine  truth  simply,  and 
as  it  is  given.  Hence  the  dressings  and  un¬ 
dressings  to  which  Christianity  has  been  sub¬ 
jected.  Roman  Catholicism  has  accommodated 
it  to  human  sense ;  Rationalism  accommodates 
it  to  human  intelligence,  or  rather  strives  to 
do  so ;  for  are  those  who  would  make  man  the 
measure  of  all  things  sure  that  they  have  found 
man’s  true  measure  ?  If  the  doctrines  of  Reve¬ 
lation  are  mysterious,  are  the  facts  of  Life  less 
so  ?  Are  “  the  things  of  a  man”  and  the  things 
of  God  fitted,  so  to  speak,  by  the  mere  cutting 
off  of  all  that  transcends  reason,  —  itself  but  a 
part  of  man  ?  Reason  has  its  outposts,  from 
which  it  is  continually  driven  back  defeated  ;  it 
rules,  but  under  a  perpetual  check;  it  cannot 
take  account  of  its  own  wealth,  or  fill  the 
region  it  presides  over.  It  is  but  a  noble  vassal, 
“  one  that  knoweth  not  what  his  lord  doeth.” 
Man  reverences  his  reason,  and  trusts  it,  as  far 
as  it  will  lead  him,  hut  that  is  not  his  whole 
length,  for  he  feels  that  he,  the  reasonable  Man, 
is  something  greater  than  it  is.  Sometimes  his 
dreams  are  truer  than  its  oracles,  and  this  he 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


85 


knows.  Therefore  one  deep  calleth  to  another, 
and  the  answer  to  this  call  is  Faith.  Faith  ad¬ 
dresses  itself  to  man’s  whole  being, — it  sounds 
every  depth ;  it  touches  every  spring ;  it  calls 
hack  the  soul  from  its  weary  search  within  itself, 
full  of  doubt  and  contradiction;  it  presents  it 
with  an  object,  implicit,  absolute,  greater  than 
itself, — “  One  that  knoweth  all  things.”  It  pro¬ 
vides  for  every  affection,  every  want  and  aspira¬ 
tion.  Faith  stretches  itself  over  humanity  as 
the  prophet  stretched  himself  above  the  child, — 
eye  to  eye,  mouth  to  mouth,  heart  to  heart ;  and 
to  work  a  kindred  miracle,  to  bring  back  life  to 
the  dead,  by  restoring  the  One  to  the  One, — the 
whole  nature  of  Man  to  the  whole  nature  of  Crod, 
Christianity,  under  its  merely  perceptive  char¬ 
acter,  has  done  much  for  the  world  ;  received  as 
a  law,  it  has  contributed  greatly  to  social  order 
and  well-being ;  but  thus  received,  it  is,  like  the 
Law,  too  weak  to  accomplish  for  any  individual 
soul  the  mighty  change  through  which  it  be¬ 
comes  alive  unto  God.  For  this  work  is  more 
than  reformative ;  it  asks  for  a  renewing  element 
—  ‘‘fire  upon  earth”  —  which  none  save  One 
coming  down  from  heaven  can  kindle.  Our 
cold,  decaying  Humanity  must  he  fed  by  a  fuller 
life  than  its  own,  must  be  nourished  in  a  warm¬ 
er  bosom,  before  it  can  attain  to  any  enduring 


86 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


heat  of  nobleness  or  love.  If  we  look  througti 
the  long  generations  that  have  gone  before  us, 
we  shall  find  that  every  nobler  deed  has  been 
wrought,  every  fairer  life  lived,  “  not  after  the 
law  of  a  carnal  commandment,  but  after  the 
power  of  an  endless  life.”  The  sum  of  that 
great  unwritten  history  lies  folded  in  few 
words,  —  ^^All  these  lived  in  faith.,^^  in  living 
faith  in  a  living  Person.  Shall  we  look  for 
those  who  have  done  great  things  for  Christ  or 
for  the  world  among  the  philosophical  admirers 
of  Christianity,  among  its  formal  adherents  ? 

Shall  we  find  them  even  among  those  just 
persons  to  whose  righteous  hearts  it  is  indeed 
a  law  and  honorable,  but  not  as  yet  the  law 
in  which  is  the  spirit  of  life  ?  Nay,  rather 
among  such  as  have  sought  and  have  received 
a  Sign,  the  sign  of  the  Son  of  Man  in  heaven, 
and  in  this  sign  have  fought  and  conquered. 
Among  superstitious  men,  believing  in  many 
things,  yet  believing  in  Him ;  among  ignorant 
men,  knowing  literally  nothing  but  Jesus  Christ 
and  him  crucified,  yet  knowing  him  upon  no 
earthly  testimony.  Here  too  lies  the  quiet,  per¬ 
haps  unspoken  secret  of  those  lives  of  holy,  un¬ 
selfish  beauty,  in  which  no  communion  has  been 
more  rich  than  our  own,  —  to  all  of  these  Christ 
has  come,  not  by  water  only,  but  by  blood.* 


*  Note  F. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


87 


The  foolishness  of  God,  that  which  man 
counts  dark  and  incomprehensible,  is  stronger 
than  man,  and  nothing  else  is  stronger,  Man 
loves  his  own  ease,  his  own  labors ;  there  is  a 
sweetness  in  the  natural  vine  which  he  will  not 
leave,  even  at  the  call  to  a  kingdom,  except  for 
a  cause  shown.  And  hence  comes  the  power 
of  that  mighty  appeal,  the  attraction  of  which 
He  who  knew  what  was  in  Man  prophesied 
when  he  said,  “  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw 
all  men  unto  me.”  When  God,  says  Bunyah, 
would  tune  a  soul.  He  most  commonly  begins 
at  the  lowest  note ;  so  has  it  been  in  the  tuning 
of  the  world’s  wide  discord.  In  the  depths  of 
the  great  atonement  God  has  sounded  the  low¬ 
est  note,  and  to  this  every  life,  lived  during  the 
last  eighteen  hundred  years  in  harmony  with 
him,  has  been  attuned.  In  heaven  and  upon 
earth  there  are 

“  Two  vast  spacious  things, 

The  which  to  measure  it  doth  man  behoove, 

Yet  few  there  be  that  sound  them, —  Sin  and  Love.” 

We  know  little  of  either  until  we  learn  of  them 
at  the  Cross.  There  are  abysses  whose  depths 
can  only  be  guessed  at  by  the  weight  of  the 
plummet  winch  is  required  to  sound  them. 
Such  is  sin ;  it  remains,  as  it  has  been  from 
the  beginning,  a  dark  enigma,  drawing  thought. 


1 


88  THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 

as  through  some  terrible  fascination,  to  fasten 
itself  on  the  problem  of  its  existence.^  Here 
Reason  has  transgressed  its  limits,  and  Faith 
outrun  her  heavenly  guidance.  Wise  men,  in 
their  despair  of  accounting  for  the  origin  of 
evil,  have  been  driven  to  deny  its  existence  in 
theories  too  thin  to  cheat  any  heart  that  has 
been  pierced,  yet  enlightened,  by  its  sharp  re¬ 
ality  ;  and  pious  men,  falling  into  the  snare  which 
Job’s  integrity  declined,  have  “  spoken  lies  for 
God,  and  argued  deceitfully  for  him.”  Hence 
dreams  like  that  of  Optimism, f  fictions,  such 
as  evil  being  but  the  privation  of  good ;  —  names 
matter  little  ;  sin  desolates  as  widely,  pain  racks 
as  keenly,  w^hether  we  account  for  their  exist¬ 
ence  upon  a  positive  or  a  negative  theory.  Yet 
it  is  remarkable  that  our  Saviour,  while  he  does 


*  Note  by  the  Editor.  —  “  And  I  inquired  what  iniquity  was, 
and  found  it  to  be  no  substance,  but  the  perversion  of  man’s  will 
from  Thee,  the  Supreme,  towards  lower  things.”  —  St.  Augustine. 

“The  Scripture,  and  the  Faith,  and  the  Truth  say.  Sin  is 
naught  else  but  that  the  creature  turneth  away  from  the  un¬ 
changeable  Good,  and  betaketh  itself  to  the  changeable,  that  it 
turneth  away  from  the  Perfect  to  that  which  is  in  part  and  im¬ 
perfect,  and  most  often  to  itself.” —  Theologica  Germanica. 

“  There  is  no  sin  but  selfishness,  and  all  selfishness  is  sin.”  — 
Julius  Muller. 

t  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe  that  the  Christian  opti¬ 
mism  is  as  unsatisfactory  as  the  philosophic,  and  must  remain  so, 
as  long  as  there  is  no  sight  so  common  as  that  of  unsanctified 
sorrow  and  unchastening  pain. 


.  THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


89 


not  explain  this  awful  problem,  does  not  explain 
it  away.  To  the  old,  ever-recurring  question, 
“  Whence  these  tares  ?  ”  he  answers  simply, 
“An  enemy  hath  done  this.”  Man  has  striven 
to  bridge  over  this  chasm  between  his  soul  and 
God  with  theories  contradictory  to  the  reason 
they  profess  to  satisfy,  and  false  to  the  moral 
sense  they  desire  to  soothe ;  but  He  who  spake 
as  never  man  spake  does  not  reason  upon  this 
subject.  He  sees  this  great  gulf  set ;  he  knows 
what  its  mouth  has  devoured  of  earth’s  best 
and  noblest :  one  thing  most  precious  of  all 
remains ;  —  he  flings  Himself  within  it. 

And  though  this  gulf  still  yawns  wide,  and 
stretches  itself  even  unto  hell,  though  it  still 
underlies  Nature’s  fairest  scenes,  and  earth’s 
pomp  and  beauty  and  rejoicing  descend  into  it 
daily,  the  beginning  of  the  end  has  been  made. 
Sin  and  pain  and  death  continue  their  rav¬ 
ages,  upheld  by  him  from  whom  their  strength 
is  derived.  The  Beast  lives,  yet  it  has  re¬ 
ceived  a  deadly  wound ;  its  dominion  is  taken 
away,  though  its  life  is  prolonged  for  a  season 
and  a  time. 

Although  the  work  of  renovation  is  a  hid¬ 
den  work,  a  slow  one,  “  for  there  are  many 
adversaries  ”  j  though  it  proceeds  as  yet  among 
checks  and  hinderances,  as  a  fair  city  might 


90 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


rise  from  its  ruins  behind  a  broken  and  still 
beleaguered  wall,  yet  the  sure  foundation  has 
been  laid.  Deep  and  wide  as  decay  has  struck, 
the  remedy  has  pierced  still  deeper.  If  we 
must  come  to  the  Cross  to  learn  of  sin,  here 
too  must  we  come  to  learn  of  love,  —  a  love 
of  which  we  know  but  little  until  we  see  it  in 
its  crowning  work.  For  our  God  is  one  that 
hideth  himself.  Nature,  yea  also  Providence, 
is  thick  with  dark  anomalies ;  day  unto  day 
these  utter  speech,  and  night  unto  night  de¬ 
clare  knowledge,  —  a  language  of  sign  and 
parable,  where  the  voice  is  not  heard;  One  is 
there,  only  One,  who  has  shown  us  plainly  of 
the  Father.  God’s  bow  lies  upon  the  cloud  of 
Circumstance,  yet  light  does  not  break  through 
it  until  we  see  it  in  the  face  of  Him  in  whom 
the  excellency  of  His  glory  shines.  Human 
life  is  beset  with  contradictions,  at  the  solution 
of  which  we  are  but  guessers,  until  Christ  solves 
the  riddle  that  was  too  hard  for  us,  —  bringing 
forth  food  and  sweetness  from  the  very  jaws 
of  the  devouring  lion.  “  If  thou  wouldst  have 
me  weep,”  said  one  of  old,  “  thou  must  first 
weep  thyself.”  God  has  wept.  In  the  strong 
crying  and  tears  of  the  Son,  in  the  great  drops 
of  sweat  as  it  were  blood  falling  down  to  the 
ground,  lie  the  witness  to  the  travail  of  the 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


91 


Father’s  soul.  “  Herein  is  love,”  consoling, 
rebuking  love, — love  that  has  no  consolation  so 
strong  as  the  rebuke  it  administers.  “Behold 
my  hands  and  my  feet !  ”  these  testify  to  a  ne¬ 
cessity  endured,  an  anguish  shared.  It  is  our 
brother’s  blood  that  cries  unto  us  from  the 
ground:  “A  spirit  hath  not  flesh  and  bones, 
as  ye  see  me  to  have.” 

I  often  think  of  George  Herbert’s  homely  and 
affecting  verse,  — 

“  Death,  thou  wast  once  an  uncouth,  hideous  thing; 

•  •  •  •  • 

But  since  our  Saviour’s  death 
Has  put  some  blood  into  thy  face. 

Thou  hast  grown  sure  a  thing  to  be  desired 
And  full  of  grace.” 

Our  Saviour’s  death  has  put  blood  also  into 
the  face  of  life.  That  which  robs  death  of  its 
sting  robs  life  of  its  bitterness.  When  we  once 
realize  that  the  Son  of  God,  in  taking  humanity 
upon  himself,  took  something  which  he  keeps  still, 
and  will  not  relinquish  throughout  eternity,  we 
become  alive  to  an  awful  consolation.  We  see 
Creation  and  its  great  High-Priest  standing  as 
those  whom  God  hath  joined  together  never  to 
be  sundered  ;  and  through  this  living  bond, 
“  even  his  flesh,”  the  anguish  of  the  burden 
laid  upon  us,  down  to  the  groaning  of  mere 
animal  existence,  arises  through  a  softening 


92 


THE  PA  TIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


medium.  An  old  Greek  litany  supplicates 
Christ  by  “  His  known  and  unknown  sulFer- 
ings.”  Who  shall  say  how  much  the  first  were 
exceeded  by  the  last,  or  fathom  the  depth  of 
those  words,  “  He  tasted  death  for  every  man  ”  ? 
Of  the  intensity  of  Christ’s  sufferings  we  know 
and  can  know  little ;  as  little.^  perhaps.^  of  their 
limits  and  duration.  What  was  the  weight  of 
the  burden  He  took  upon  him  in  being  found  as 
man,  and  is  it  altogether  laid  aside  ?  Has  He 
who  was  once  acquainted  with  grief  unlearnt 
that  lesson?  Has  the  Man  of  sorrows,  in  the 
persons  of  his  afflicted  members,  altogether 
ceased  to  grieve  ? 

Was  it  only  for  those  three  and  thirty  years 
that  the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  laid  up¬ 
on  Him?  only  upon  the  cross  that  he  bore  the 
weight  of  that  which  he  takes  away,  —  the  sins 
of  the  whole  world?  The  Word  on  this  subject 
contains  utterances  into  whose  depth  of  meaning 
only  the  Spirit  can  admit  us.  I  allude  to  say¬ 
ings  like  that  of  the  Master,  “  Saul,  Saul,  why 
persecutest  thou  me  ?  ”  to  declarations  like  that 
wherein  the  servant  affirms  his  rejoicing  in  the 
sufferings  which  fill  up  that  which  is  left  behind 
of  the  afflictions  of  Christ.*  These  intimations 

*  How  are  we  to  understand  the  words  which  tell  us  of  Christ 
being  crucified  afresh,  and  put  to  open  shame  by  our  backslid- 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


93 


are  not  dark,  neither  are  they  thinly  scattered ; 
they  witness  to  a  union  more  close  and  intimate 
than  that  through  which  Christ,  before  his  com¬ 
ing  in  the  flesh,  redeemed  and  pitied  his  people, 
and  carried  them  all  the  days  of  old.  Yet  when 
we  cease  to  hold  to  things  by  the  heart,  how 
little  of  them  do  we  really  retain  !  We  let  liv¬ 
ing  facts  stiffen  into  doctrinal  abstractions,  until 

ings  ?  of  the  Spirit  grieved,  interceding  for  us  with  unutterable 
groanings  ?  Are  such  expressions  to  be  received  as  merely  fig¬ 
urative  ?  Are  we,  as  so  many  divines  have  taught  us,  to  believe 
that  God  in  using  them  is  but  accommodating  himself  to  the 
weakness  of  our  human  conceptions,  and  allow  ourselves  to  be 
cheated  out  of  the  assurance  of  a  Divine  sympathy,  through  the 
shallow  glosses  which  have  robbed  so  many  Scriptures  of  their 
meaning  ?  God’s  anger,  as  inward  and  outward  desolation  testify, 
is  a  real  thing ;  so  are  His  love  and  His  pity  real,  —  real  as  the 
nature  they  spring  from,  the  misery  they  meet;  “  and  his  com¬ 
passions  fail  not,  his  mercy  endureth  forever.” 

“  Veritas  est  maxima  caritas.'* 

The  Reformers  lay  such  an  almost  exclusive  stress  upon  the 
work  of  Christ,  that  which  he  does  for  us,  that  an  outside  feeling 
has  crept  within  the  heart  of  Protestantism ;  we  have  light  blaz¬ 
ing  on  us  from  many  windows,  but  we  miss  the  warmth  which 
Catholicism,  even  Roman  Catholicism,  has  retained,  because  it 
recognizes  far  more  fully  than  we  do  the  intimate  personal  com¬ 
munion  ever  existing  between  Christ  and  his  body  of  Elect. 
And  in  this,  and  not  in  any  idea  of  meritorious  works  (a  tree 
twice  dead,  plucked  up  from  the  very  roots),  lies  the  secret  of 
their  extraordinary  sacrifices  for  Him  ;  more  particularly  as 
shown  in  outward  beneficence,  and  sympathy  with  the  wants 
and  woes  of  the  human  body,  —  that  body  of  our  Humiliation 
which  He  who  once  condescended  to  its  weakness  still  bears 
upon  Him  in  power. 


94 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE, 


Truth  itself  begins  to  wear  a  cold  and  fictitious 
aspect:  it  is  not  in  fact  true/er  us  until  we  have 
made  it  our  own  through  needing  it,  and  loving 
it.  It  is  not  through  a  merely  intellectual  recog¬ 
nition  that  the  human  spirit  can  give  its  Amen 
to  the  yea  of  God.  We  see  how  firm  a  hold  the 
Church  of  the  Early  and  Middle  Ages  kept  upon 
this  great  truth,  —  the  actual  presence  of  Christ 
with  his  people;  how  this  belief  revealed,  and 
as  it  were  transfigured  itself  in  legends  which 
superstition  itself  cannot  rob  of  their  undying 
significance.  When  St.  Francis  stoops  down  to 
kiss  the  leper’s  wound,  and  sees  that  his  place 
has  been  taken  by  the  Saviour ;  when  St.  Mar¬ 
tin  hears  these  words  in  his  vision,  “  Behold, 
Martin,  who  hath  clothed  me  with  his  cloak,” 
we  see  that  the  Church  to  these  men  is  not  the 
mere  tomb  of  Christ,  but  his  warm  and  living 
body,  sending  a  pulsation  through  every  mem¬ 
ber.  There  is  now  among  us  a  disposition  to 
separate  the  principles  of  Christianity  from  the 
facts  upon  which  they  are  founded.  We  might 
as  well  attempt  to  separate  the  soul  from  the 
body  without  destroying  the  Man.  For  these, 
its  supernatural  facts,  are  the  very  life  and 
breath  and  blood  of  Christianity  ;  its  principles 
can  only  take  root  in  a  re-created  humanity, 
“  Give  me  a  point,”  said  the  mechanician,  “  and 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


95 


I  will  remove  the  world.’’  When  Man’s  soul  is 
effectually  moved,  it  is  from  a  stand-point  beyond 
itself.  Experience  shows  us  (as  I  have  said) 
that  Humanity  has  never  been  truly  built  up 
unto  God,  but  upon  the  foundation  rejected  of 
earthly  builders,  the  mysteries  of  the  Christian 
faith.  Christianity  is  a  building  of  which  as 
much  lies  sunk  beneath  the  surface  as  is  reared 
above  it.  It  is  a  tree  whose  roots  strike  down  as 
deep  into  the  earth  as  its  branches  spread  wide  in 
the  air  above,  and  when  we  seek  to  pluck  up  any 
one  of  these  roots,  a  groan  goes  through  its  uni¬ 
versal  frame.  We  say  of  earthly  things,  “that 
which  comes  from  the  heart  goes  to  the  heart  ”  ; 
so  it  is  with  heavenly.  When  Man’s  heart  is 
touched,  it  is  through  that  which  comes  straight 
from  the  heart  of  God.  These  mysteries,  the 
life  and  death  of  God  in  the  flesh,  his  spiritual 
resurrection  in  the  reconciled  soul  of  Man,  are 
messages.,  they  are  God’s  authentic  *  love-letters, 
showing  us  plainly  of  the  Father. 

*  Joseph  Alleyne,  in  dying,  •would  often  commend  the  love  of 
Christ,  “  often  speaking  of  his  sufferings  and  of  his  glory,  of  his 
love-letters,  as  'he  called  the  holy  history  of  his  life,  death,  resur¬ 
rection,  ascension,  and  his  second  coming,  the  thoughts  of  which 
would  ever  much  delight  him.” 

And  to  say  that  the  mystery  of  our  Saviour’s  passion  lies  at 
the  heart  of  the  whole  of  man’s  life  in  Him  is  to  say  little,  for  it 
is  that  heart  itself;  let  love  or  sorrow  pierce  but  a  little  deeper, 
and  we  shall  find  it  even  in  our  own.  There  is  surely  something 


96 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


Those  who  were  first  in  Christ  lived  very 
near  the  heart  of  these  awful  yet  tender  mys¬ 
teries.  We  find  them  connecting  every  function 
of  the  soul’s  renewed  life  with  what  has  been 
suffered  and  obtained  for  it  through  another 
life,  “  of  whose  fulness  we  have  all  received.” 
It  is  scarcely  possible  to  read  the  Epistles  with¬ 
out  feeling  that  Luther’s  often-quoted  remark, 
“  There  is  much  religion  in  the  possessive  pro¬ 
nouns,”  may  be  fairly  extended  to  prepositions, 
so  threaded  are  the  whole  apostolic  writings  with 
these  minute,  adhesive  fibres,  —  small  members 
of  our  universal  speech,  yet  boasting  great  things, 
as  steps  in  the  ladder  by  which  the  human  spirit 
ascends  even  unto  heaven. 

very  affecting  in  the  fact  that  the  sufferings  of  Christ  should  lie 
so  much  closer  to  the  hearts  of  his  people  than  all  that  those 
sufferings  have  won  for  them ;  that  it  should  be  ever  the  Anguish 
endured,  and  not  the  Glory  obtained,  which  touches  all  the  fin¬ 
est,  deepest  chords  of  the  renewed  nature.  I  find  a  proof  of  this 
in  the  fact  that  dying  believers,  soon  to  enter  upon 

“  Zion’s  habitation, 

Zion,  David’s  sure  foundation,” 

seem  to  care  comparatively  little  for  hymns  descriptive  of  the 
joys  and  glories  of  heaven,  beautiful  as  many  of  these  are.  It  is 
to  the  cross,  not  to  the  crown,  that  the  last  look  turns,  the  linger¬ 
ing  grasp  cleaves ;  and  the  latest  conscious  effort  of  the  believer  is 
sometimes  to  lift  himself  to  Him  who  was  lifted  up,  through  the 
half  instinctive  repetition  of  some  words  like  those  of  Gerhardt’s 
Hymn  on  the  Passion,  the  grandest  of  uninspired  compositions : 

“  0  head  so  full  of  bruises, 

So  full  of  scorn  and  pain.” 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE, 


97 


By  and  through  and  of  and  in  One  “  of  whom 
are  all  things,  and  we  in  him.”  It  is  interesting 
to  observe  that,  while  the  Saints  of  old  appeal 
simply  to  God  through  his  revealed  attributes, 
his  mercy,  his  faithfulness,  his  goodness  which 
endureth  forever,  it  is  upon  God  manifested  in' 
the  flesh,  in  the  facts  of  our  Lord’s  life,  and  the 
relations  which  that  life  has  established,^  that  the 
Apostles  found  their  claim.  They  rest  not  so 
much  upon  what  God  is,  as  what  he  has  become 
to  men,  their  neighbor  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  as 
such  bound,  as  an  old  divine  says,  to  love  them 
even  as  Himself. 

“  What  hath  man  done  that  man  may  not  undo, 

Since,  God  to  man  hath  grown  so  near  akin  f 
Did  his  foe  slay  him  ?  he  shall  slay  his  foe ; 

Hath  he  lost  all  ?  he  all  again  shall  win ; 

Is  sin  his  master?  he  shall  master  sin.” 

And  if  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  congregations 
of  the  ungodly  have  robbed  us ;  if  in  the  confu¬ 
sion  which  reigns  in  the  visible  churches,  it  has 
become  hard  for  believers  to  recognize  the  fact 
of  their  living  membership  with  Christ  and  with 
each  other,  let  us  seek  more  earnestly  for  the 
light*  which  makes  these  relations  manifest. 
We  shall  not  find  it  in  the  phosphorescence  of 
any  dead  man’s  candle ;  exhalations  from  the 

tombs,  though  they  be  the  tombs  of  saint  and 

■» 

*  1  John  i.  7. 

5  G 


98 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


martyr,  give  but  an  uncertain  glimmer.  For 
it  is  not  galvanic,  but  organic  life  we  need,  and 
this  is  not  to  be  obtained  by  descending  into  the 
Past  to  touch  the  ashes  even  of  a  prophet’s  bones. 
They  who  stand  by  the  grave,  even  of  Christ 
himself,  may  behold,  with  the  devout  women,  a 
Vision  of  Angels,  hut  him  they  see  not,  “  He  is 
not  here,  he  is  risen.  Behold,  he  goeth  before 
you  into  Galilee.” 

“  Man’s  soul  has  widened  with  his  world.”  It 
is  evident  that  prescriptive  authority  must  have 
now  less  weight  with  him  than  in  ruder,  less 
thoughtful  ages.  A  child  believes  things  because 
he  is  told  them ;  a  man  believes  them  because  they 
are  true.  To  the  human  spirit  is  now  that  word 
spoken,  —  “  He  is  of  age ;  ask  himself.” 

And  it  is  plain  that  there  was  never  in  this 
world’s  history  a  time  in  which,  to  speak  after  a 
human  manner,  it  was  so  easy  to  miss  Christ.,  so 
hard  to  do  without  him.,  as  now.  Fot  it  is  not 
only  the  outward  courts  that  have  become  wide, 
yet  crowded ;  science  continues  to  open  up  infi¬ 
nite  yet  densely  peopled  spaces,  lengthening  out, 
although  every  link  be  golden,  the  chain  between 
man’s  soul  and  God,  so  that  even  the  Christian 
thinker  must  respond  with  sadness  to  the  bold 
and  satirical  saying  of  Hazlitt,  “  In  the  days  of 
Jacob  there  was  a  ladder  between  heaven  and 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


99 


earth,  but  now  the  heavens  have  gone  farther  off^ 
an^  are  become  astronomical.”  The  very  rev¬ 
elation  of  God’s  power  has  tended  to  weaken  the 
sense  of  his  immediate  presence ;  yet  it  is  not 
here,  hut  in  another  region,  still  richer,  fairer, 
and  more  perilous,  that  our  peculiar  danger  lies. 
Man,  within  the  limits  of  his  own  nature,  has 
broken  into  a  world  of  which  former  ages,  and 
these  the  most  intellectually  subtile  and  refined, 
knew  nothing.  The  time  is  past  when  all  things 
within  that  nature  could  be  mapped  out  in  broad 
and  even  lines  ;  how  many  motives  and  impulses 
do  we  find  at  work  within  us  of  which  we  can¬ 
not  say  that  they  are  good  or  evil,  only  that  they 
are  natural,  human.  Therefore  is  there  a  diffi¬ 
culty,  ofttimes  an  agony,  introduced  into  the 
Christian  life,  of  which  earlier  ages  were  uncon¬ 
scious  ;  partly  because  the  forms  of  good  and 
evil  were  then  more  definite,  and  partly  because 
what  Goethe  says  of  the  individual  holds  true  for 
the  race  he  belongs  to ;  the  easy-hearted,  even 
reckless  simplicity  of  youth,  carries  it  unawares 
past  many  a  danger  where  to  pause  and  to  inves¬ 
tigate  would  be  to  be  lost.  For  there  are  voices 
that  even  to  hear  is  bewilderment ;  shapes  that 
but  to  look  upon  is  madness.  Our  path  is  beset 
with  such,  alluring,  beckoning,  inviting  us  we 
know  not  whither ;  must  we  parley,  must  we 


100 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE 


wrestle  with  each  of  these  to  compel  it  to  utter 
a  clear  message,  to  assume  a  certain  likeness? 
The  way  is  long,  the  day  is  short ;  we  must  on¬ 
wards,  though  the  leaves  above  our  head  mut¬ 
ter,  though  the  flowers  that  we  would  pluck  are 
charactered,  though  each  simple  and  famihar 
thing  beside  our  way  has  become  instinct  with 
a  terrible  consciousness,  linking  it  with  our  own 
being.  Literature  and  art,  even  Nature  herself,  — 
these  which  for  freer  spirits  had  a  charm  of  their 
own,  and  needed  not  any  other,  —  now  breathe 
and  burn  in  the  fulness  of  a  parasitical  life ;  the 
fever  of  man’s  conflict  has  passed  across  them ; 
their  bloom  and  fragrance  feeds  and  is  fed  by 
fire  kindled  far  down  at  the  central  heart.  The 
shadow  of  Humanity  falls  wide,  darkening  the 
world’s  playground,  and  games,  be  they  those  of 
Hero  and  Demigod,  can  no  more  enthral  us. 
What  is  Science  itself  but  a  gigantic  toy,  which 
may  delight  but  can  never  satisfy  the  heart, 
which,  even  through  its  sadness  and  perplexity, 
has  learnt  that  it  is  greater  than  all  that  sur¬ 
rounds  it?  Which  confesses  that,  though  the 
light  within  it  is  too  often  darkness,  still  is  that 
very  light  “  more  worthy  than  the  things  which 
are  shown  by  it  ”  ;  still  are  Man’s  errors  greater 
than  Nature’s  order,  his  miseries  nobler  than  her 
splendor ;  still  is  he 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


101 


“  Chief 

Of  things  God’s  hand  hath  fashioned,  sorest  curst, 

Yet  holding  still  the  First-Born’s  birthright,  first 
In  grandeur  and  in  grief.” 

To  know  more  of  ourselves,  and  to  know 
meanwhile  no  more  of  God,  makes  onr  present 
anguish  and  desolation.  But  what  if  even  here 
were  our  safety  ?  What  if  it  were  through  this 
very  wound  that  the  good  Samaritan  as  he  jour¬ 
neys  designs  to  pour  in  the  wine  and  oil  of  his 
consolation?  What  if,  in  learning^  more  of  the 
awful  and  tender  mystery  of  our  own  nature,  we 
become  acquainted  with  the  yet  more  awful,  more 
tender  mystery  that  encompasses  it?  Never 
did  the  heart  assert  itself  so  strongly  as  now ; 
highly  strung  and  sensitive,  it  finds  inward  con¬ 
tradiction  and  outward  circumstance  bear  hard 
upon  it ;  yet,  beset  by  a  thousand  warring  im¬ 
pulses,  it  has  learnt  its  own  weakness  and  its 
own  strength,  and  out  of  the  pressure  and  strait- 
ness  of  this  siege  it  can  take  up  its  appeal  to 
Christ  out  of  the  depths  and  into  the  depths  of 
a  common  Nature.  It  can  say,  with  the  blind 
man,  “  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David.,  have  mercy 
upon  me.”  It  has  had  its  own  voice  thrown 
back  upon  it  from  the  rocks ;  has  seen  its  own 
form'  transfigured  upon  the  mountains ;  it  has 
had  enough  of  echoes,  of  illusions ;  it  seeks  com- 


*  Note  G. 


102 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


munion,  reciprocity;  it  needs  that  which  can 
alone  understand,  alone  answer  it ;  therefore  the 
one  flies  to  the  one,  —  the  heart  to  Christ. 

And  let  the  heart  of  man  be  comforted ;  it 
cannot  outgrow  its  Christ ;  yes,  let  the  heart  be 
comforted  in  him  out  of  its  poverty  and  its 
riches  alike.  When  we  remember  that  Christ, 
in  taking  unto  himself  Man’s  nature,  took  upon 
him  all  that  it  would  become.^  in  how  glorious  and 
serene  a  light  do  the  acquisitions  of  science 
stand !  This  thought  gives,  as  it  were,  music 
and  measure  to  the  onward  march  of  humanity ; 
changes  it  from  an  outbreak  of  tumultuous  forces 
to  steady  and  disciplined  progress.  And  if, 
turning  from  the  world  of  action,  we  flash  the 
light  of  this  truth  within  the  dim  and  many- 
chambered  region  that  lies  beneath  it  all,  here 
also  we  shall  discover  that  in  Christ  there  is  a 
provision,  though  we  may  not  at  once  find  it, 
for  the  growth  and  expansion  which  has  made 
Humanity  without  him  like  a  fruit  too  heavy  for 
the  stalk  it  hangs  on,  dragged  and  trailed  to 
dust  by  its  very  weight  and  splendor.  Even 
through  the  wealth  and  apparent  waste  of  ten¬ 
drils  and  suckers  it  is  now  putting  forth,  it  may 
cleave  closer,  drink  deeper  unto  Him.  For  all 
that  awakens  a  sense  of  need  within  us  draws 
us  by  so  much  nearer  Christ ;  no  spiritual  truth 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


103 


being  our  own  until  we  have  needed  it ;  as  long 
as  we  can  do  without  these  Divine  friends,  they 
stand  in  some  degree  aloof  from  us,  —  feeble, 
wounded,  even  despairing,  we  must  cast  our¬ 
selves  upon  their  very  bosoms  before  they  will 
receive  or  return  our  clasp. 

And  let  us  not  be  discouraged  because  the 
life  in  Christ  has  grown  less  simple  than  it  once 
was.  In  earlier  ages,  even  in  times  not  very 
far  removed  from  our  own,  the  Christian’s 
course  was  “as  straight  as  a  rule  could  make 
it,”  because  the  license  which  surrounded  him 
compelled  him  to  cast  aside  all  things  so  as  to 
secure  the  one  thing  alone  needful ;  to  use  a 
simile  of  your  own,  he  was  like  a  swimmer  cast¬ 
ing  off  his  garments,  a  hard-pressed  rider  throw¬ 
ing  aside  his  weapons,  —  to  breast  the  wave,  to 
win  the  goal,  was  all  in  all. 

When  the  pressure  upon  faith  comes  chiefly 
from  without,  this  very  pressure  forces  up  the 
life  in  a  direct,  unswerving  line  like  that  of  the 
palm-tree,  lifting  up  its  golden  abundant  crown 
to  heaven ;  the  same  life  would  now  resemble 
that  of  a  banyan,  touching  earth  at  many  points, 
but  at  every  one  drawing  forth  fresh  life  and 
vigor ;  less  commanding  in  austere  majesty,  but 
more  resembling  the  tree  of  prophetic  vision, 
“a  harbor  for  fowl  of  every  wing.”  We  must 


104 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


open  our  minds  to  this  great  fact,  that  all  exist¬ 
ence  is  organic ;  we  cannot  be,  so  to  speak,  one 
thing  mentally  and  socially,  and  another  thing 
Christianly,  as  if  the  life  in  Christ  and  the  life 
in  Adam  flowed  on  together  yet  distinct,  like 
two  unmingling  currents.  The  rational  man 
will  see  Christ,  as  he  sees  all  things,  from  the 
level  upon  which  he,  the  rational  man,  stands. 
Man  cannot  see  Christ  at  all  except  by  light 
from  above ;  on  the  hill,  as  in  the  valley,  we  are 
in  darkness  until  the  dawn  breaks ;  but  if  sun¬ 
rise  flnds  us  upon  the  mountain-peak,  is  it  not 
evident  that  the  prospect  its  light  discloses  must 
be  infinitely  wider  and  more  glorious  than  if  it 
had  overtaken  us  many  degrees  lower  down  ? 

Now  that  the  whole  table-land  of  existence  is 
lifted  into  a  higher  region,  we  must  discard  such 
commonplaces  as  this,  that  there  is  no  belief  like 
that  of  the  peasant  and  the  child,  and  with  them 
the  dark  and  confused  notions  of  Faith  upon 
which  all  such  axioms  are  founded.  Faith  is 
not  an  extrinsic  thing,  an  outgrowth  of  the  mind 
opposed  to  its  rational  convictions,  its  clear  and 
intimate  intuitions.  It  is  reason  enlightened  by 
its  Lord  and  Giver  ;  it  is  feeling  reconciled  with 
its  great  object ;  it  is  in  an  emphatic  sense  “  the 
right  opinion  of  that  which  zs.”  As  Christ  is  a 
living  Person,  so  is  Truth  a  living  thing,  that 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


105 


cannot  be  nailed  like  some  foreign  substance  to 
the  mind,  but  must  permeate  it,  as  like  draws 
near  to  like.  Until  we  see  clearly  that  there 
is  a  harmony  between  that  which  we  receive  and 
that  which  we  are ;  until  we  admit  that  Divine, 
like  human  influences,  can  only  do  their  work 
upon  the  soul  through  finding  a  point  of  contact 
within  it.)  we  are  scarcely  so  alive  to  the  deep 
moral  significance  ^  of  life  as  to  see  how  it  is 
through  that  which  we  believe,  approve,  yes, 
even  through  that  which  we  like.,  that  the  soul  is 
prepared  to  receive  the  impress  of  Caesar  or  of 
God.  “  He  that  is  of  the  truth,  heareth  my 
voice.”  This  is  a  deep  saying ;  so  also  is  that 
of  the  prophetic  psalm  which  declares  plainly 
that  our  Lord  reveals  himself  under  aspects 
varying  with  the  moral  and  spiritual  conditions 
of  those  who  look  upon  him  :  “With  the  merci- 

♦  A  significance  which  runs  through  it  all.  Every  book,  for 
instance,  has  a  moral  expression,  though,  as  in  the  human  face, 
it  may  not  be  easy  to  say  what  it  consists  in.  We  may  take 
up  some  exquisite  poem  or  story,  with  no  directly  religious  bear¬ 
ing,  and  fed  that  it  is  religious,  because  it  strikes  a  chord  so  deep 
in  human  nature  that  we  feel  it  is  only  the  Divine  nature,  “  God 
who  encompasses  us,”  that  can  respond  to  what  it  calls  forth. 

From  some  books,  especially  such  as  treat  of  sin  with  levity, 
an  odor  of  death  escapes;  about  others  there  is  an  almost 
sensible  savor  of  life  unto  life.  Some  quaint  old  English 
poems  and  devout  essays  send  a  fragrance  into  the  very  soul ; 
to  look  into  them  is  to  open  the  tomb  of  a  saint,  and  find  it  full 
of  roses. 

5  ^ 


106 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


ful,  tliou  wilt  show  thyself  merciful ;  with  the 
upright  man,  thou  wilt  show  thyself  upright ; 
with  the  pure,  thou  wilt  show  thyself  pure  ;  and 
with  the  froward,  thou  wilt  show  thyself  fro- 
ward.” 

If  spiritual  truths  were  things  self-evident, 
like  mathematical  propositions  compelling  the 
assent  of  the  mind  they  are  addressed  to,  it 
would  be  hard  to  understand  the  extraordinary 
value  which,  under  the  Gospel  dispensation,  is 
attached  to  Faith.  It  would  be  hard  to  see  how 
the  possession  of  this  one  attribute  could  embalm 
as  it  were  a  man’s  whole  soul  and  life ;  how  a 
human  being  could  become  dear  to  his  Maker, 
simply  because  he  saw  that  which  those  around 
him  were  not  sufficiently  enlightened  to  perceive. 
But  is  it  not  evident  that  this  gracious  disposition 
is  one  in  which  the  whole  man  is  included  ?  Is 
there  not  something  in  the  very  nature  of  spirit¬ 
ual  Truth  which  demands  for  its  reception  more 
than  the  mere  intellect,  let  it  strive  as  it  will, 
can  compass,  and  something,  too,  in  our  own 
nature  which  makes  us,  as  responsible  beings, 
answerable  for  what,  as  regards  this  Divine  truth, 
we  see  and  hear  ?  To  put  this  in  other  words. 
Can  a  spiritual  truth  he  apprehended  otherwise 
than  sacramentally  ?  In  all  cases  there  will  surely 
be  a  proportion  between  the  soul’s  receptivity 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


107 


and  the  fulness  that  is  poured  within  it;  a  meas¬ 
ure  between  what  it  brings  and  what  it  finds.  And 
this  St.  Paul  intimates,  when  he  desires  for  his 
Ephesian  converts  that  they  may  be  so  rooted 
and  grounded  in  love  as  to  be  able  to  know  that 
which  passeth  knowledge ;  to  enter  into  that 
which  he  in  vain  attempts  to  shadow  forth  be¬ 
neath  the  figures  of  length  and  breadth  and 
height  and  depth,  —  the  love  of  Christ,  —  Love’s 
secret,  which  only  love  itself  can  make  intelligi¬ 
ble.  “  The  love  of  God,”  saith  one  of  old,  “pass¬ 
eth  all  things  for  illumination.”  One  drop  of 
this  love  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy 
Ghost;  one  expansion  of  the  renewed  mind  in 
pity,  in  forgiveness,  in  love  to  the  Father,  in 
good-will  towards  men,  will  teach  us  more  of 
what  God  really  is  than  we  could  learn  from 
a  thousand  disquisitions  upon  the  Divine  char¬ 
acter  and  attributes.  And  that  which  is  the 
fulfilling  of  the  law  is  also,  in  a  great  degree, 
the  understanding  of  that  which  it  fulfils :  for 
love  has  an  access,  an  intuition,  of  its  own ;  it 
attains  the  end  while  others  are  disputing  about 
the  means ;  it  needs  not  to  have  every  word 
explained,  defined,  interpreted ;  it  is  enough  for 
it  to  know  the  voice^^  the  voice  of  the  Beloved,  to 
follow  whithersoever  that  voice  leads. 

And  the  voice  of  a  stranger  the  heart  will  not 


108 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE, 


follow,  even  though  it  be  the  voice  of  Christ 
himself ;  therefore  would  it  see  more,  know 
more,  have  more  of  Him,  faith’s  sole,  sufficing 
Object,  without  whom  love  in  this  world  would 
he  too  sorrowful,  and  hope  too  vague  a  thing.  It 
is  interesting  to  observe  how  the  practical  spirit 
of  our  day  asserts  itself  in  this  great  demand, 
already  audible  to  ears  that  listen  to  the  under¬ 
swell  that  rises  faint,  yet  clearly,  above  the  agi¬ 
tating  tumult  of  opinion.  We  need  the  living, 
spiritual  Christ ;  and  ours  are  not  the  needs  which 
can  be  satisfied  by  gazing  on  his  lifeless  body, 
however  curiously  embalmed  by  formalism  with 
rite  and  ceremony,  neither  will  we  allow  mysti¬ 
cism  to  come  by  night  to  steal  away  his  body,  and 
fill  its  place  with  ideas  and  imaginations  of  its 
own.  For  that  great  demand,  “  a  philosophy  of 
fruit,”  has  been  moved  from  the  kingdom  of  na¬ 
ture  to  that  of  grace  ;  here  too  we  ask  for  a  vin¬ 
tage,  and  desire  to  pass  from  speculation  to  that 
intimacy  with  its  occupying  subject  which  alone 
deserves  the  name  of  knowledge.*  Is  there  not 
among  us,  even  amid  the  very  heat  and  dust  of 
contending  opinion,  a  manifest  weariness  of  dis- 

*  “  There  is  only  one  kind  of  knowledge  which  can  justly  be 
called  wisdom,  —  sapientia  ;  meaning  properly  a  Tcnowhdge  par¬ 
taking  properly  of  the  nature  of  a  taste;  an  intelligere  in  which 
there  is  at  the  same  time  a  sapere  which  appropriates  and  takes 
in  its  object  with  a  lively  relish.”  —  Ullmann. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


109 


cussion  ?  And  this  from  no  indifference  to  dog¬ 
matic  truth,  the  sure.,  the  only  foundation  for  all 
that  we  can  know  or  can  receive  of  Christ.,  but 
grounded  upon  the  deep,  ever-increasing  convic¬ 
tion  that  even  Truth  itself,  according  to  Locke’s 
fine  saying,  will  not  profit  us  so  long  as  she  is 
but  held  in  the  hand,  and  taken  upon  trust  from 
other  men’s  minds,  not  wooed  and  won  and 
wedded  by  our  own. 

And  here  it  is  that,  as  regards  many  ques¬ 
tions  now  at  issue,  the  plain  matter-of-fact  think¬ 
er  and  the  ardent,  inquiring  Christian  find  a 
common  standing-ground.  The  first  will  often 
ask  of  those  who,  whether  for  scriptural  truth  or 
for  apostolic  discipline,  call  upon  him  to  come 
and  behold  their  zeal  for  the  Lord,  “  Where, 
among  so  many  notions  about  the  thing,  is  the 
thing  itself?  Has  the  fire  gone  out,  or  is  it  still 
smouldering  beneath  the  fagots  that  have  been 
brought  to  mend  it?”  The  other,  with  a  deeper 
meaning,  will  inquire,  “  What  is  the  difference 
between  placing  our  confidence  in  something 
which  we  do,  or  placing  it  in  something  which 
we  think?  We  may  as  well  rest  in  an  ordinance 
as  in  an  opinion,  so  long  as  we  rest  in  either  for 
its  own  sake.,  and  not  for  the  sake  of  that  which 
the  confession  encloses,  the  form  embodies,  — 
even  the  Spirit,  which,  not  to  be  contained  in 


no 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


these,  yet  working  through  them  all,  converts 
them  into  things  having  life.”  And  thus  we 
have  begun  to  tire  of  watchwords,  to  suspect 
that  there  is  no  necessary  antagonism  between 
the  word  which  God  has  spoken  and  the  sign 
which  he  has  ordained.  The  Word  itself  has 
been  made  flesh,  and  has  dwelt  among  us :  will 
objective  truth  be  less  valued,  Catholic  institu¬ 
tions  less  loved,  when  each  is  held  dear  for  the 
sake  of  that  which  it  conveys  ?  —  even  that  in¬ 
ward  and  spiritual  grace,  the  gift  obtained  by 
our  Lord  for  us  men,  the  breath,  the  soul  of 
'  spiritual  life,  —  a  soul  which  we  shall  not  surely 
expect  to  possess  more,  simply  through  possess¬ 
ing  less  of  its  body.  For  it  is  not  by  rejecting 
what  is  formal,  but  by  interpreting  it,  that  we 
advance  in  true  spirituality ;  the  Spirit  of  God, 
even  as  the  spirit  of  a  man,  works,  and,  as  far  as 
we  yet  understand  the  conditions  of  our  being, 
lives^  only  through  “  the  body  which  has  been 
prepared  for  it.”  By  things  which  we  can  see 
and  hear,  by  things  which  our  hands  can  handle, 
by  words  and  forms,  by  doctrines  and  institu¬ 
tions,  men  live,  and  in  them  is  the  life  of  man. 
For  it  is  neither  by  that  which  is  merely  natural, ' 
nor  by  that  which  is  purely  spiritual,  that  man’s 
complex  nature  is  nourished  and  sustained:  he 
lives  neither  by  bread  alone,  nor  yet  upon  angel’s 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


Ill 


food,  but  upon  that  in  which  the  properties  of 
each  are  included,  —  “  the  bread  which  came 
down  from  heaven  to  give  life  unto  the  world.” 

With  regard  to  many  of  the  truths  of  Christ, 
we  are  surely  learning  to  be  no  more  children, 
ever  looking  at  things  “  in  part,”  but  men,  able 
to  appreciate  them  as  they  bear  upon  each  other, 
and  upon  the  facts  with  which  life  brings  them 
into  relation.  And  that  peculiar  condition  of 
our  being  which  makes  it  hard  for  us  to  be  alto¬ 
gether  “  without  partiality,”  which  renders  it 
certain  that  there  will  be  to  each  believer  some 
one  aspect  under  which  his  Lord  is,  above  all 
others  dear,  some  ordinance  in  which  He  is 
above  all  others  present,  may,  on  the  whole, 
help  forward  the  perfect  apprehension  of  Christ. 
Each  individual  soul,  from  the  very  constitution 
of  our  nature,  will  fasten  upon  that  portion  of 
Divine  Truth  which  meets  and  answers  to  its 
own  peculiar  need ;  and  when  we  learn  to  look 
at  Christianity  as  a  living,  organic  whole,  made 
for  man.,  and  corresponding  with  what  he  is,  we 
shall  the  better  understand  that  deep  saying  of 
the  Apostle’s,  “  There  are  differences  of  admin¬ 
istrations,  but  the  same  Lord  ”  ;  and  understand 
also  how  it  is  that  Christianity  assumes  a  dis¬ 
tinctive  character  *  in  certain  ages,  among  cer- 

*  Note  H. 


\ 


112 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


tain  races,  even  in  certain  individuals.  Christ 
does  not  so  unite  himself  to  Humanity  as  to 
obliterate  its  native  characteristics.  Personality 
is  a  sacred  thing,  being  the  very  stamp  and 
print  of  God  upon  each  human  soul :  I  would 
say  also,  it  is  an  awful  thing,  being  that  which, 
whatever  else  we  may  gain  or  lose,  we  keep 
through  time  and  through  eternity,  through  it 
hnowing  and  Joeing  known.  And  sacred  also  is 
that  characteristic  impress  which,  whether  in 
religious  or  national  society,  gives  life  and  indi¬ 
vidual  expression  to  the  community  that  bears 
it.  “  Common  sense,”  ‘‘  public  spirit,”  —  are 
these  mere  words?  Words  truly,  but  testifying, 
used  or  misused  as  they  may  be,  to  the  fact  of 
our  being,  in  Adam  and  in  Christ,  members  one 
of  another,  enjoying  not  only  a  separate  but  a 
corporate  existence,  the  functions  of  which  can 
only  be  exerted  through  fellowship  and  union. 

“Have  we  not  one  Father?  hath  not  one 
God  created  us  ?  and  did  lie  not  make  one  ?  ”  * 
All  civil,  as  well  as  all  Christian  society,  is  based 
upon  this  confession,  yet  with  this  difference, 
that  the  social  is  the  outward,  and  in  some  de¬ 
gree  conventional,  recognition  of  Brotherhood ; 
the  Christian,  its  hearty,  inward  acceptance, 
without  which  the  distinctive  mark  of  savage  or 


*  Mai.  ii.  10, 15. 


THE  PA  TIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


113 


animal  life  will  reassert  itself  in  the  very  bosom 
of  civilization.  Selfishness,  or  selfism  (as  it 
stands  in  its  old  form),  tends  continually  to  sepa¬ 
ration, —  solitariness.  Nature,  it  is  true,  tells 
us  that  we  cannot  do  without  each  other,  if  we 
would  advance  or  prosper ;  she  bids  us  use  each 
other,  Christ  bids  us  love  each  other,  “  even  as 
he  hath  loved  us,”  with  no  single,  no  self-cen¬ 
tred  aim.  He  alone  setteth  the  solitary  in  fami¬ 
lies,  by  giving,  in  his  own  Person,  that  common 
centre  for  hopes,  interests,  and  affections,  which 
is  the  principle  of  family,  —  united  life.  Nature 
draws  men  together,  but  even  in  this  drawing 
there  is  a  disuniting  principle  at  work ;  in  social 
life,  for  instance,  so  admirable  in  its  ideal  out¬ 
line,  we  find  practically  something  in  ourselves 
and  in  others  which  makes  it  hard,  even  impossi¬ 
ble,  to  fulfil  the  obligations  that  we  see  most 
clearly.  We  find  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  con¬ 
tending  wills,  of  confused,  sometimes  contradic¬ 
tory  relations,  —  a  strain  is  laid  upon  Humanity 
which,  weak  through  a  civil  discord,  it  is  not 
strong  enough  to  bear  unaided. 

“  In  Adam  all  dies  ”  ;  the  flaw  runs  through 
to  the  foundations,  the  sword  reaches  even  to 
the  life.  “  The  earth,”  saith  Christ,  “  is  weak, 
and  all  the  inhabiters  thereof;  I  bear  up  the 
pillars  of  it.”  Nature  and  humanity  fail ;  their 


114 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


great  charter  is  written  in  fading  characters,  dis¬ 
tinct,  it  is  true,  in  outline,  but  not  clearly  legi¬ 
ble  till  held  to  the  warmth  of  a  heaven-kindled 
flame.  In  nature,  even  as  in  Christ,  no  man 
liveth,  no  man  dieth,  to  himself;  and  of  this 
human  society,  even  under  its  most  limited  con¬ 
ditions,  makes  us  aware,  by  showing  the  action 
and  reaction  ever  at  work  between  the  individ¬ 
ual  and  the  community  he  belongs  to.  We  see 
that  a  man  really  becomes  better  or  worse  mor¬ 
ally,  advances  or  retrogrades  socially,  according 
to  the  standard  of  life  which  prevails  around 
him,  —  a  standard  which  he  himself  is  at  the 
same  time  helping  to  depress  or  raise.  This  is 
a  truth  which  we  meet  by  the  wayside,  and  as 
often  pass  without  heeding  it.  Yet  once  in  the 
course  of  this  world,  in  the  history  of  a  Man 
who  lived,  who  died  for  the  people,  who  had  no 
personal  interests  (as  we  are  accustomed  to  con¬ 
ceive  of  them),  and  whose  life.,  on  any  materialis¬ 
tic  theory.,  would  have  been  an  impossibility.,  this 
truth  has  been  taken  up  upon  the  Mount,  and 
there  so  transfigured  and  glorified,  that  men  who 
toil  and  struggle  below,  seeing  it  in  its  beauty, 
“  running  to  it,  salute  it.”  In  the  life  and  in 
the  teaching  of  Christ,  a  clear  ideal  has  dawned 
upon  men,  and  we  must  not  be  discouraged 
though  we  should  find  it,  like  all  other  ideals., 
hard  to  be  realized  in  this  present  life. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


115 


The  pang  of  all  true  spirits  in  political,  in 
social,  in  Christian  hfe  alike  is  this,  to  see 
clearly  what  we  cannot  as  yet  embrace  wholly. 
Nor  must  we  despair  if  this  pang  should  grow 
keener  with  increasing  light ; 

“As  the  day  lengthens,  the  cold  strengthens.” 

T wo  principles  are  at  work  within  Christianity , 
twin-existent,  of  which  as  yet,  travailing  and  in 
haste  to  be  delivered,  she  crieth  out,  —  the  de¬ 
sire  for  unity,  and  the  passionate  love  for  truth. 
These  desires,  under  the  present  limitations  of 
human  nature,  are  antagonistic,  and  have  often, 
in  darker  ages,  torn  the  bosom  at  which  they 
were  fed.  Yet  they  are  no  less  of  Christ,  bring¬ 
ing,  according  to  his  prophecy,  a  Sword  into  the 
world.  We  see  in  the  Gentile  world  no  desire 
for  unity,  —  a  desire  ever  founded  on  the  love, 
either  in  earnest  or  in  possession,  of  some  fixed, 
indisputable  truth.  And  of  this  they  had  so 
little  conception,  that  Pilate’s  question,  “  What 
is  truth?”  expresses,  as  it  were,  the  sense  of 
the  ancient  world.  He  did  not  wait  for  an 
answer,  because  he  did  not  believe  there  was 
any  to  be  found ;  all  things  being  true  for  those 
who  held  them  to  be  so.  We  see  how  sociable, 
to  use  their  own  expression,  the  old  religions 
were  in  this ;  how  ready  to  adopt  and  ingraft 


116 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


any  new  idea  or  form  of  belief  whicli  seemed 
good  for  use,  or  even  for  ornament,  in  social  life. 
We  see,  too,  how  opposed  to  this  plastic  genius 
of  the  Old  World  is  that,  the  arrow  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  Church,  which  has  rankled  so  sorely  in  past 
ages,  and  even  now  diffuses  a  bitterness  which, 
however,  if  rightly  probed,  discloses  less  the  bit¬ 
terness  of  hatred  than  that  of  love,  —  of  love, 
chilled  and  mortified,  desiring  to  knit  up  the 
ancient  bond,  yet  repelled  even  while  it  is  at¬ 
tracted,  because  the  iron  and  the  clay  are  so 
mixed  together  that  only  the  heat  of  charity  at 
its  whitest  glow  can  weld  them  into  one.  The 
bosom  of  Christ  is  the  grave,  the  only  grave  of 
religious  acrimony ;  we  learn  secrets  there  which 
render  it  possible  for  us  to  be  of  one  heart,  if  we 
may  not  yet  be  of  one  mind,  with  all  who  lean 
upon  it  with  us.  For,  slightly  as  we  may  think 
to  heal  long-festering  hurts,  there  is  no  cure  *  for 
religious  ^dissension  except  that  of  spiritual  ac¬ 
quaintance  with  God,  as  revealed  to  us  in  the 
mind  and  spirit  of  Christ  Jesus.  To  “  acquaint 
ourselves  ”  thus  with  God  is  “  to  be  at  peace,” 
for  it  is  to  learn  how  far  more  strong  than  all 

*  Of  this  the  soul’s  good  Physician  makes  us  aware  in  His 
memorable  answer  to  his  disciples,  Luke  ix.  64,  55.  Even  in 
rebuking  their  uncharitable  temper,  he  reveals  to  them  its 
cause  and  remedy;  “Ye  know  not  the  Spirit  of  whom  ye  are 
the  children.” 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


117 


which  separates  is  that  which  unites  us  in  Him. 
So  long  as  the  external  is  more  to  us  than  the 
vital,  the  accidental  dearer  than  the  essential,  so 
long,  in  short,  as  we  are  more  Churchmen,  more 
Protestants,  more  anything  than  Christians,  re¬ 
ligious  acerbity  will  continue.  It  ceases  so  soon 
as  the  pure  language  becomes  more  familiar  to 
our  lips  than  the  dialects  in  which  we  are  apt  to 
merge  it,  and  they  who  are  in  Christ,  hearing 
each  other  speah  plainly.^  discover  that  they  are 
one  in  Him,  even  as  he  is  one  with  the  Fa¬ 
ther. 

“  Jerusalem  is  built  as  a  city  that  is  at  unity 
with  itself”  ;  that  which  moulds  itself  from  with¬ 
in  is  free.  Who  that  knows  anything  of  what 
unity  really  is,  —  how  deep  its  root,  how  kindly 
and  unconstrained  its  expansion,  —  can  be  very 
solicitous  for  uniformity,  —  the  outward  union  of 
“  cold  and  neutral  and  inwardly  divided  minds 
the  rigid,  corpse-like  symmetry  of  that  which 
cannot  of  itself  either  live  or  go,  but  must  be 
ever  kept  up  by  that  by  which  it  can  be  alone 
produced, — the  strong  pressure  of  the  compelling 
hand  ?  Human  spirits  are  only  to  be  drawn  to¬ 
gether  and  held  together  by  the  living  bond  of 
having  found  something  in  which  they  really  do 
agree.  And,  though  we  may  yet  be  far  from 
the  dawning  of  that  day,  known  unto  the  Lord, 


118 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


when  Opinion  and  Truth  will  be  no  more  at 
variance,  the  “One  Day^  when  there  shall  be 
One  Lord  and  his  Name  One,”  we  are,  perhaps, 
not  so  far  removed  from  a  time  when  devout 
men,  although  they  be  of  every  nation  under 
heaven,  may  hear  each  other  speak  of  the  won¬ 
derful  works  of  God  in  their  own  tongue,  —  the 
tongue  in  which  they  were  horn.,  —  a  speech  after 
which  many  among  us  have  begun  to  yearn  too 
fervently  to  be  any  longer  occupied  in  framing 
shibboleths  to  prove  our  Brethren. 

Is  not  a  day  coming  —  yea,  unto  them  who 
watch  for  the  Morning,  has  it  not  already 
dawned  ?  —  when  we  shall  grow  so  covetous  of 
good,  of  grace,  as  to  turn  our  swords,  too  often 
sharpened  against  each  other’s  bosoms,  into 
ploughshares,  to  break  up  the  fallow  ground 
that  lies  within  and  around  us  ?  when  we  shall 
beat  our  spears  into  pruning-hooks  to  dress  the 
abundant  increase  of  the  days,  when  the  sower 
shall  overtake  the  reaper,  and  the  treader  of 
grapes  him  that  soweth  seed  ? 

Already  we  are  beginning  to  attach  a  spirit¬ 
ual  meaning  to  the  prophecy,  “  Ephraim  shall 
not  envy  Judah,  and  Judah  shall  not  vex 
Ephraim  ” ;  to  look  forward  to  a  time  when 
enmity  within  God’s  kingdom  shall  so  far  cease 

*  See  the  conclusion  of  Zechal’iah’s  prophecy. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


119 


as  to  allow  tlie  kindred  zeal  of  his  people,  —  zeal 
which  is  but  love  under  its  more  ardent  aspect, 
—  to  be  turned  against  the  common  enemies 
of  their  king,  and  to  find  there  its  triumphs. 
“  They  shall  fly  upon  the  shoulders  of  the 
Philistines  towards  the  west ;  they  shall  spoil 
them  of  the  east  together ;  they  shall  lay  their 
hand  upon  Edom  and  Moab,  and  the  children 
of  Ammon  shall  obey  them.” 

“  In  the  evening  time  there  shall  be  light.” 
Evening  brings  with  it  the  thought  of  home  and 
rest,  the  desire  for  communing  round  the  hearth 
with  those  of  our  own  family  and  household. 
Many  steps  are  now  surely,^  though  perhaps 


*  “  The  second  Pentecost  preceding  the  coining  of  our  Sav¬ 
iour  promises  to  be  of  a  very  universal  character.  Blessed 
time!  I  now  read  the  Old  Testament  promises  of  a  great  bless¬ 
ing  ‘  on  all  flesh  ’  as  if  I  had  never  read  them  before:  they  appear 
in  a  new  light.  Is  not  that  prophecy  of  Zechariah  striking,  — 
‘  And  the  inhabitants  of  one  city  shall  go  to  another,  saying.  Let 
us  go  speedily  to  pray  before  the  Lord,  and  to  seek  the  Lord  of 
Hosts:  I  will  go  also.  Yea,  many  people  and  strong  nations  shall 
come  to  seek  the  Lord  ’  ? 

“  Those  beautiful,  questioning  words  of  Isaiah  about  the  Gen¬ 
tiles  often  occur  to  me  :  ‘  Who  are  these  who  fly  as  dovfes  to 
their  windows  ?  ’  —  a  flock  of  doves  speeding  to  their  home, 
their  ark  of  refuge.  Noah’s  one  dove,  like  the  solitary  Jewish 
Church,  took  refuge  there  from  the  wild  waste  of  waters  ;  but 
all  kindreds,  peoples,  tongues,  and  nations  shall  fly  to  their 
stronghold  in  latter  times,  their  feathers  of  gold  and  their  wings 
covered  with  silver,  white  and  lovely,  though  they  have  lien 
among  the  pots.”  —  J.  E.  B. 


120 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


half  instinctively,  seeking  the  Father’s  house ; 
there  is  a  sound  of  home-going  feet,  a  murmur 
of  anxious,  loving  recognition.  The  approach 
of  night  brings  with  it  a  sense  of  need  and 
dependence,  and  in  this,  the  World’s  great 
evening,  the  heart  has  become  more  alive  to  the 
pulsation  which  is  ever  at  work  throughout  the 
whole  of  Christ’s  Mystical  Body,  a  secret  per¬ 
haps  not  to  be  entered  upon  very  early  in  the 
believer’s  day.  For  the  characteristic  of  the 
religious  or  seeking  soul  is  solitariness.  It  is 
the  withdrawal  of  the  soul  into  the  wilderness, 
there,  in  that  deepened  sense  of  personal  ac¬ 
countability  in  which  most  religious  convictions 
begin,  to  plead  with  God  face  to  face,  of  indi¬ 
vidual  sin,  for  individual  redemption  ;  its  cry  is, 
“  Lord,  save  we,  for  I  perish.” 

The  characteristic  of  the  godly,  the  accepted 
soul,  so  joined  unto  the  Lord  as  to  be  of  one 
spirit  with  him,  is  fellowship ;  in  awaking  up 
into  Christ  it  awakes  unto  its  brethren ;  its  ex¬ 
clamation  is  that  of  the  Psalmist,  “  Behold, 
there  are  many  with  me.” 

And  though  the  believer  often  seems,  like  his 
Master,  to  tread  the  wine-press  alone,  neither  his 
conflicts  nor  his  triumphs  are  ever  really  soli¬ 
tary.  “  Multitudes,  multitudes,”  if  unseen,  are 
ever  round  him.  Our  Lord  in  his  last  solemn 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


121 


hour  speaks  of  sanctifying  himself  for  the  sahe  of 
those  whom  his  Father  had  given  him,  that  they 
also  might  he  sanctified  through  the  truth  ;  and 
though  we  may  be  unable  as  yet  to  pierce  to  the 
heart  of  all  that  is  included  in  those  words, 
“  Because  I  live.,  ye  shall  live  alsof  ^  we  know 
enough  even  now  to  be  aware  that  heaven  and 
earth  are  drawn  so  much  the  nearer  each  other 
for  every  soul  in  living  communion  with  Christ. 
As  every  waste  and  barren  spot  becomes  a 
centre  for  noisome  exhalations  to  gather  in,  a 
haunt  for  doleful  creatures  to  repair  to,  so 
for  every  piece  of  territory  reclaimed  unto  God 
the  whole  garden  of  the  Lord  advances  by  so 
much  nearer  its  final  blossoming  as  the  rose. 
And  as  our  seasons  grow  milder  and  more 
healthful  because  a  marsh  has  been  drained  or 
a  forest  cleared  in  some  remote  district,  so  will 
the  blessing  which  faith  draws  down  extend  far 
beyond  the  age  or  region  whence  its  voice  arose. 
Our  warfare  with  the  sins  and  sorrows  of  our 

*  Our  Lord  says,  “  I  am  come  that  ye  might  have  life,  and 
that  ye  might  have  it  more  abundantly  ” ;  life  in  its  abundance, 
not  in  its  mere  continuity,  'which,  at  least  to  some  spirits,  would 
offer  little  to  attract  or  satisfy.  But  what  if  we  receive  the  say¬ 
ing  in  its  intensity,  —  “  the  fulness  of  life,”  —  extended  capacities, 
enlarged  affections,  with  infinite  wisdom  and  love  to  meet  and 
answer  them?  “  My  people  shall  be  satisfied  with  my  goodness, 
for  I  have  satiated  the  weary  soul,  and  replenished  every  sorrow¬ 
ful  soul.” 


6 


122 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


spirits  may  be  accomplisbed  in  some  far-distant 
field,  and  they  who  have  tarried  at  home  may 
thus  divide  the  spoil  with  the  mighty.  The 
lowly  Christian,  lifting  up  holy  hands  to  God,  is 
at  that  moment  strengthening  those  of  some  un¬ 
seen  brother ;  the  ground  upon  which  he  kneels 
may  continue  dry  as  was  the  fleece  of  Gideon ; 
the  object  upon  which  his  heart’s  desire  and 
prayer  is  set  may  fail ;  yet  his  labor  has  not 
therefore  been  in  vain  in  the  Lord.  The  bless¬ 
ing  he  has  sought  may  drop  far  hence  upon  the 
dwellings  in  the  wilderness,  may  help  to  bring 
down  floods  upon  the  dry  ground  which  has 
not  of  itself  craved  after  the  increase  from  on 
high. 

And  knowing  that  neither  the  word  which 
God  sends  forth,  nor  the  holy  impulse  which 
that  word  quickens,  can  ever  return  to  him 
void,  are  we  not  justified  in  much  hope,  in  long 
patience?  You  say  to  me,  “We  ask  for  the 
continual  dew  of  God’s  blessing ;  but  need  we, 
in  days  when  the  enemy  breaketh  in  like  a 
flood,  despair  of  seeing  floods  descend  upon  a 
waiting  world  in  answer  to  secret,  persevering 
prayer?”  “I  will  pour  floods  upon  the  dry 
ground.”  The  ground  is  dry,  yet  it  still  con¬ 
tains  within  it  that  Root  which  sprung  of  old 
“  out  of  a  dry  ground  ” ;  a  root  which  at  the 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


123 


scent  of  water  will  bud  and  bring  forth  boughs 
like  a  plant.  “  Revive,  O  Lord,  thy  work  in 


the  midst  of  the  years !  ” 


“  Awake,  O  north  wind,  and  come, 
thou  south;  blow  upon  my 
garden,  that  the  spices 
thereof  may 
flow  out.” 


Part  Third, 


“  Therefore,  behold,  I  will  allure  her, 

And  bring  her  into  the  wilderness. 

And  speak  comfortably  to  herj 

And  I  ’will  give  her  her  vineyards  from  thence^ 

And  the  valley  of  Trouble  for  a  door  of  Hope.” 

Hosea  ii.  14,  15. 


PART  III. 

Y  soul  is  athirst  for  God,”  saith 
the  Psalmist,  “  even  for  the  livinq 
God.” 

There  is  a  point  beyond  which 
neither  the  experience  of  others,  nor  even  the 
utterances  of  the  inspired  Word  can  instruct  or 
comfort  the  heart ;  it  must  have  rejoicing  in 
itself,  and  not  in  any  other ;  it  must  learn  of  its 
Lord  as  none  save  himself  can  teach.  Its  prayer 
is,  '‘'‘Make  me  to  hear  thy  voiced  It  knows  much 
about  Jesus,  hut  it  dedres  to  know  him;  it  can  no 
longer  rest  in  opinions,  in  ordinances,  in  Chris¬ 
tianity  received  as  a  system,  in  anything  save 
in  Christ,  and  in  actual  communion  with  him. 

But  whence  comes  this  sigh,  the  broken  lan¬ 
guage  of  every  Christian  heart,  “  More  of 
Christ !  ”  How  is  it  that  our  Lord  hath  been 
so  long  time  with  us,  and  yet  we  have  not 
known  him  ? 


128 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


Who  among  us  has  not  experienced  moments, 
and  these  perhaps  often  recurring,  in  which  the 
heart  has  communed  with  itself  and  been  sad, 
desiring  that  Jesus  would  himself  draw  near,  yet 
ready,  in  its  discouragement,  to  ask  whether,  in 
the  very  urgency  of  its  desire  and  its  endeavor, 
it  may  not  be  exacting  too  much  of  itself,  may 
not  be  expecting  too  much  of  God  ? 

For  have  we,  in  this  urgency,  enough  consid¬ 
ered  that  saying  of  our  Saviour’s,  “  I  have  yet 
many  things  to  say  unto  you,  hut  ye  cannot  hear 
them  now  ”  ?  The  natural  man  dies  hard  within 
us ;  the  man  from  heaven  is  not  born  ^  without 
a  pang ;  first  the  Anguish,  then  the  J oy .  Are 
our  souls  willing,  yea,  are  they  able.,  to  endure 
that  anguish,  ardently  as  we  may  desire  the  joy 
which  makes  it  to  be  remembered  no  more? 
When  the  fulness  of  time  is  come,  the  fulness  of 
strength  will  be  given  to  meet  it,  and  not  before  ; 
and,  meanwhile,  the  way  of  life  continues  to  have 
its  own  ache,f  a  sadness  peculiar  to  itself. 

A  certain  degree  of  impatience  seems  natural, 
even  befitting  to  Man,  a  being  of  keen  though 
limited  vision,  of  stringent  though  narrow  grasp. 

*  “  We  know  noC  says  Bacon,  speaking  of  natural  life,  “  whether 
to  be  born  may  not  be  as  painful  as  to  die.''* 

t  Kein  Reisen  ist  ohn  Ungem  ach, 

Das  Lebensweg  hat  auch  sein  Ach. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


129 


His  mind,  as  one  who  has  sounded  its  very 
depths  has  taught  us,  is  naturally  enamored  of 
order  and  system ;  he  finds  within  himself  the 
Surmise  of  a  perfection  which  outward  nature 
does  not  respond  to,  and  for  this  he  the  more 
delights  to  trace  a  sequence  through  all  her  ap¬ 
parent  confusion  ;  to  discover  that  by  earth  and 
air  and  ocean  there  is  a  path  such  as  the  vul¬ 
ture’s  eye  hath  not  known.  And  if  science,  as 
has  been  truly  said,  mourns  to  find  a  gap,  every 
here  and  there,  in  her  great  chain  of  cause  and 
consequence,  —  a  link  broken,  perhaps  dropt 
through  forever,  —  how  is  it  with  the  Christian, 
if  in  the  ladder  which  joins  earth  to  heaven 
there  should  be  some  rounds  wanting?  How 
is  it  when  Man,  who  loves  to  track  the  end  from 
the  beginning,  to  see  the  flower  wrapt  up  in  the 
bud,  finds  that  the  life  of  the  soul,  like  that  of 
the  insect,  must  pass  through  strange  metamor¬ 
phoses,  through  sundry  successive  kinds  of 
deaths?  when  he  discovers  that  the  life  of  the 
Divine  seed,  set  so  deep  in  the  heart  and  in  the 
world,  instead  of  being  one  of  consistent  growth, 
of  free,  harmonious  development,  may  be  the 
most  fitly  illiistrated  by  the  well-known  simile 
of  an  acorn  set  within  a  jar  of  porcelain ;  a 
mighty  plant  that  must  shatter  its  frail  earthen 
tabernacle  in  its  growing. 

6  *  I 


130 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


And  here  we  are  reminded  of  what  the 
prophet  tells  us,  that  God’s  thoughts  are  not  our 
thoughts,  neither  His  ways  our  ways.  God  has 
time  for  everything,  and  he  has  room  for  every¬ 
thing  ;  but  it  is  far  otherwise  with  his  creature, 
and  the  tendency  of  all  human  effort  is  to  go 
straight  to  a  desired  aim,  putting  on  all  possible 
strain  and  pressure.  Thus,  adding  what  we 
conceive  of  infinite  power  to  what  we  know  of 
finite  will.)  we  have  arrived  at  an  idea  of  Om¬ 
nipotence,^  the  exact  opposite,  surely,  of  that  to 

^  An  idea  in  which  we  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  God,  no  less 
than  man,  has  a  nature,  and  within  that  nature  laws  by  which 
he  is  irresistibly  governed,  and  ends  to  which  his  designs  infal¬ 
libly  tend  ;  and  it  is  probable,  indeed  certain,  that,  if  we  could 
see  clearly  into  the  depths  of  the  Divine  counsels,  we  should  find 
nothing  arbitrary  or  adventitious  in  any  of  the  works  or  de¬ 
crees  of  the  Almighty  ;  nothing,  I  mean,  which  could  have  been 
otherwise  than  that  which  it  is.  Choice  is  the  glory  of  humanity, 
its  distinctive  attribute  ;  raising  a  man  as  high  above  the  inferior 
creatures  as  it  sinks  him  below  Deity,  for  to  choose  is  obviously 
as  human  as  is  to  err  ;  infinite  wisdom  can  see  and  take  but  one 
way. 

God,  as  his  Apostle  tells  us,  cannot  deny  or  contradict  himself ; 
and  upon  this,  His  moral  obligation,  the  moral  freedom  of  man 
is  founded,  —  a  freedom  which  the  gospel  of  life  and  immortal¬ 
ity  has  brought  to  light,  and  which  it  alone  reveals.  All  systems 
founded  upon  nature  gender  to  bondage  ;  behind  which  of  these, 
whether  Pagan  or  Pantheistic,  do  we  not  see,  or  rather  feel,  the 
dark  background  of  power  only,  —  in  other  words.  Fate,  decree¬ 
ing,  creating,  devouring  all  things,  —  the  blind,  impassive  womb 
and  grave  of  rational  and  sensitive  life  ? 

“  God  is  a  spirit.”  What  is  Predestination,  the  Christian  form 
of  Fatalism,  but  this,  —  the  everlasting  purpose  of  God  towards 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


131 


which  all  we  see  of  the  Almighty’s  works  would 
lead.  We  accustom  ourselves  to  speak  of  his 
dealings,  whether  in  grace  or  nature,  as  being 
sudden,  irresistible,  one  in  design  and  in  execu- 

good,  which  sin  by  its  very  nature  contradicts,  and  naturally 
opposes,  so  that  that  which  is  exceeding  good  becomes  the  ex¬ 
ceeding  evil  (“anguish,  tribulation,  and  wrath”)  of  those  who 
resist  it.  The  ungodly,  unless,  through  repentance  and  faith  in 
Christ,  they  fall  back,  as  it  were,  upon  God’s  plan,  must  perish 
with  all  that  runs  counter  to  it.  Consider  in  this  light  the  male¬ 
dictory  passages  in  the  Psalms,  and  the  awful  denunciations  of 
the  Prophets  against  national  sins ;  they  are  declaratory,  having 
to  do  with  what  is,  as  much  as  with  what  will  be.  The  spirit 
instructed  in  God’s  unchanging  counsels  (knowing  His  mind  and 
purpose)  reads  the  Present  and  Future  by  one  light,  and  is 
able  to  interpret  the  one  by  the  other.  What  has  been  (in  this 
sense)  be,  must  be;  under  certain  conditions  certain  results 
follow. 

Note  by  the  Editor.  —  The  awful  question  here  touched 
upon  has  been  too  often  presented  by  theologians  in  such  a  way 
as  to  shock  the  moral  sense,  by  a  necessarj’-  inference  that  the 
Divine  economy  is  alike  conservative  of  evil  and  good,  misery 
and  happiness.  Implacable  hate,  immeasurable  revenge,  insatia¬ 
ble  cruelty,  —  all  that  is  abhorrent  in  man,  —  have  been  attribut¬ 
ed  by  the  veriest  blasphemy  of  logic  to  God.  Eternity  of  evil,  an 
endless,  aimless  horror  of  discord,  torment,  and  despair,  believed 
in  as  an  end  and  purpose  of  creation,  would  seem  to  make  heaven 
itself  impossible.  Our  author,  while  admitting  the  fact  of  future 
suffering  and  loss,  refers  it  to  that  conscious  freedom  of  choice  in¬ 
separable  from  man  as  a  moral  being,  the  denial  of  which  in  this 
life  or  the  next  involves  the  loss  of  his  personal  identity  and  ac¬ 
countability.  The  dark  problem  has  no  other  solution  than  that 
which  is  reached  through  simple  faith  in  the  Divine  Goodness. 
Shall  not  He  do  right?  Can  we  not  leave  all  in  His  hands?  If 
we,  when  nearest  to  Him  in  feeling,  yearn  with  tenderest  pity 
after  the  sin-sick  and  suffering,  how  much  more  He  whose  name 
is  Love  ?  Overwhelmed  by  a  sense  of  our  own  moral  infirmities 


132 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


tion ;  yet  Nature,  so  soon  as  ever  we  pierce  below 
her  broad  surface-smile,  betrays  on  every  hand 
the  marks  of  care,  of  patience,  and  adaptation. 
All  that  we  learn  of  God  in  this  region  tends 

and  the  evil  about  us,  we  are  too  prone  to  question  the  sufficiency 
of  His  love;  bound  down,  as  it  were,  in  the  grave-clothes  of 
spiritual  death,  we  too  often  distrust  “  the  power  of  His  resur 
rection.”  “  Infinite  Goodness,”  says  the  Countess  de  Gasparin, 
“  finds  us  more  sceptical  than  infinite  justice.”  Sin  indeed 
throws  a  baleful  shadow  upon  the  future;  but  who  shall  set 
limits  of  time  and  place  to  the  mercy  of  God,  which  “  endureth 
ybrever  ”  ?  “  When,”  asks  the  author  of  this  book  in  her  closing 
paragraph,  were  Love’s  arms  stretched  so  wide  as  upon  the 
cross?”  Looking  thitherward,  may  we  not  tremblingly  and 
reverently  trust  the  larger  hope,  which,  secretly  cherished  in  the 
inmost  heart  of  Christendom  from  the  times  of  Origen  and  Duns 
Scotus  to  those  of  Foster  and  Maurice,  has  found  its  fitting  utter¬ 
ance  in  the  noblest  poem  of  the  age  ? 

“  0  yet  we  trust  that  somehow  good 
Will  be  the  final  goal  of  ill. 

To  pangs  of  nature,  sins  of  will, 

Defects  of  doubt  and  taints  of  blood: 

“  That  nothing  walks  with  aimless  feet. 

That  not  one  life  shall  be  destroyed 
Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void 
When  God  hath  made  the  pile  complete; 

“  That  not  a  worm  is  cloven  in  vain ; 

That  not  a  moth  with  vain  desire 
Is  shrivelled  in  a  fruitless  fire, 

Or  but  subserves  another’s  gain. 

“  Behold !  we  know  not  anything; 

I  can  but  trust  that  good  shall  fall 
At  last,  —  far  off,  —  at  last,  to  all. 

And  every  winter  change  to  spring.” 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


133 


more  and  more  to  bring  his  works  ont  of  the 
domain  of  the  magical.)  to  convince  us  that  it  is 
the  human,  and  not  the  Divine  energy,  winch 
craves  for  its  purposes  the  signet-stamp  of  full 
and  speedy  accomplishment ; 

“  For  we  are  hasty  builders,  incomplete; 

Our  Master  follows  after,  far  more  slow 
And  far  more  sure  than  we,  for  frost,  and  heat. 

And  winds  that  breathe,  and  waters  in  their  flow, 

Work  with  Him  silently.” 

And  turning  to  God’s  inner  kingdom ;  here, 
too,  where  the  good  to  be  desired  is  so  great, 
the  evil  to  be  avoided  so  imminent,  even  here, 
also,  we  must  confess  that  God  wraps  up  his 
great  designs  in  a  husk  or  envelope,  which  will 
not  fall  from  off  them  until  the  appointed  time 
be  come.  What  is  the  sacred  history,  from  its 
very  beginning,  but  that  of  a  labor  working  to 
a  mighty,  far-seen,  and  remote  end  ?  What  is 
Christianity,  though  it  has  in  its  cradle  contend¬ 
ed  with  and  crushed  the  serpent  ?  —  even  now 
but  “an  infant  of  days.”  We  think,  naturally, 
that  God  might  make  all  things  as  he  wishes 
them  to  be  at  once ;  but  we  find  that  it  is  not 
his  way  to  do  so.  God  does  not  heal  us  with 
a  touch.  He  uses  means  and  processes,  tedious 
often  and  peculiarly  afflicting,  —  “  He  giveth 
medicine  ”  for  our  mortal  sickness ;  a  life-long 


134 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


remedy  for  a  life-long  ill.  And  when  we  feel  — 
as  what  Christian  at  times  does  not  ?  —  an  im¬ 
patience  with  the  slowness  of  our  own  growth, 
let  us  look  from  ourselves  into  the  universal 
Church  of  Christ,  and  ask  this  self-answering 
question  of  our  hearts.  How  shall  the  growth  of 
the  part  he  rapid.)  when  that  of  the  whole  has  been 
so  slow?  Let  us  consider  the  nature  of  the 
Earlier  Dispensation,  and  recollect  under  how 
many  costly  and  cumbrous  folds  of  rite  and 
ceremony  the  treasure  of  the  world  lay  hid. 
Let  us  remember  that  this  is  still  a  hid  treas¬ 
ure  ;  that  to  the  outwardly  Christian,  no  less 
than  to  the  Heathen  World,  the  great  mystery 
of  redeeming  love  remains  that  world’s  Open 
Secret,  declared.,  yet  uncommunicated.,  plain  to 
the  ear,  yet  dark  to  the  sense.  Let  us  con¬ 
sider  the  slow,  the  uneven,  the  painful  advance 
of  the  Mystic  Spouse,  —  she  that  cometh  up 
from  the  wilderness,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of 
Her  Beloved,  —  and  we  shall  see  that  she,  like 
her  Lord,  is  wounded  in  her  heart,  her  hands, 
and  her  feet. 

And  that  these  things  are  so,  the  Christian 
must  fain  confess.  Yet  he  would  fain  see  them 
otherwise ;  would  fain  behold  if  it  were  but 
the  initial  fulfilment  of  those  deep,  instinctive 
prophecies  which  overcharge  his  heart,  —  a 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


135 


heart  too  large  for  the  body  through  which  it  must 
for  the  present  work.  Yet,  among  many  yet 
unfulfilled  predictions,  lie  must  look  upon  one 
evermore  fulfilling  itself,  and  read  in  all  that 
passes  within  him  and  around  him  a  comment 
upon  the  Eldest-horn  of  Prophecy :  “  Thou 
shalt  bruise  his  head,  and  he  shall  bruise  thy 
heeV*  He  must  see  evil  following  hard  upon 
good.,  following  because  of  good;  Satan  exalting 
himself  against  Christ;  the  Gates  of  Hell  ad¬ 
vancing  upon  that  against  which  they  shall 
never  prevail.  Therefore  is  he  often  in  this  life 
perplexed  and  baffled,  as  one  that  knoweth  not 
what  his  Lord  doeth.  And  it  is  this  which 
gives  such  terrible,  even  blighting  power  to  the 
words  and  writings  of  unbelievers,  which  barbs 
and  sends  home  many  a  dull  scoff  that  would 
otherwise  fall  harmless,  —  that  they  touch  a  con¬ 
scious,  ever-rankling  wound.  What  they  urge 
against  Christianity  is  true.  The  believer 
knows,  already  knows,  all  that  the  infidel  can 
tell  him  ;  the  eye  of  love  can  see  as  clearly  as 
that  of  hate,  and  it  has  already  mourned  over 
all  that  the  other  exults  in  ;  has  seen  springs 
sink  down  suddenly  among  the  sands  of  the 
desert ;  has  looked  upon  bare  and  stony  chan¬ 
nels,  now  ghastly  with  the  wreck  and  drift  of 
ages,  yet  showing  where  once  a  full,  fair  river 


136 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


bore  down  life  and  gladness  to  tbe  ocean.  The 
Christian  would  fain  explain,  account  for,  these 
long  delays,  this  partial  efficacy,  this  intermit¬ 
tent  working.  He  feels  that  he  is  in  possession 
of  the  key  which  is  to  open  all  these  intricacies, 
but  at  present  he  finds  that,  like  that  of  the  Pil¬ 
grims,  “  it  grinds  hard  in  the  lock.”  He  sees 
Jesus,  but  he  sees  not  yet  all  things  put  under 
him.  The  world  around  him  is  the  same  world 
which  crucified  his  beloved  Lord,  and  he  must 
listen  from  age  to  age  to  its  insulting  cry,  “  If 
thou  be  the  Christ,  come  down  from  the  Cross, 
and  we  will  believe.” 

There  is  something  sorrowful,  even  perplex¬ 
ing,  in  every  life  which  is  guided  by  a  standard 
which  those  around  us  do  not  recognize ;  to  be 
living  by  the  dial,  when  all  around  us  go  by  the 
clock,  brings  a  contradiction  into  the  life  of 
which  the  lives  of  those  who  are  in  league  with' 
circumstance,  “  the  slaves  and  the  masters  of 
every  day,”  know  nothing. 

There  is  a  sadness  in  all  Idealism  ;  it  lifts  the 
soul  into  a  region  where  it  cannot  now  dwell ; 
it  must  return  to  earth,  and  it  is  hard  for  it  not 
to  do  so  at  the  shock  of  a  keen  revulsion,  the 
dashing  of  the  foot  against  a  stone.  But  in  no 
life  does  the  secret  of  all  tragedy,^  the  conflict 

*  Interior  freedom  and  exterior  necessity,  these  are  the  two 
poles  of  the  Tragic  World.  —  F.  Schlegel. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


137 


between  tbe  Will  and  Circumstance,  so  unfold 
itself  as  in  that  of  the  Christian  ;  he,  of  all  men, 
feels  and  mourns  over  that  sharp,  ever-recur¬ 
ring  contrast  of  our  existence,  —  the  glorious 
capabilities,  the  limited  attainments,  of  man’s 
nature  and  destiny  below.  For  his  possibilities 
are  at  once  more  glorious  and  more  assured 
than  those  of  other  men ;  yet,  as  regards  actu¬ 
alities,  he  among  all  men  must  be  content  to 
have  the  least  to  show.  And  this,  if  we  ex¬ 
amine  deeply,  will  be  found  at  the  root  of  all 
sincere  fanaticism.  It  is  the  agony  of  the  spirit, 
its  strict,  convulsive  embrace  of  some  glorious 
truth,  the  soul’s  first  love,*  for  the  sake  of  which 
it  refuses  to  perceive  the  limitations  to  which  all 
things  here  have  been  made  subject.  Having 
tasted  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  life,  “  good  for 
food,  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  and  to  be  desired  to 
make  one  wise,”  it  forgets  that  old,  unrepealed 
statute,  that  man,  in  the  Second  Adam  as  in  the 
First,  must  till  the  ground  from  whence  he  was 
taken.f  Until  he  returns  to  the  earth,  he  must 
turn  to  it,  nourishing  and  being  nourished  by  it ; 
if  he  would  stretch  forth  his  hand  and  live  by 
what  he  can  reach  of  absolute  truth,  he  will 
quickly  come  across  the  flaming  sword  turning 
every  way  to  keep  the  way  of  the  Tree  of  Life. 


*  Note  I. 


t  Genesis  iii.  19,  23. 


138 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


“  We  trusted  it  liad  been  He  whicb  should 
have  redeemed  Israel.”  Under  whatever  form 
this  hope  encounters  us,  —  from  the  wild  ex¬ 
cesses  of  the  Fifth-Monarchy  Men  and  Munster 
Anabaptists,  to  the  simple  expectation  of  the 
Dorsetshire  peasant,  who  in  Monmouth’s  rebel¬ 
lion  talked  about  “  King  Jesus,”  —  there  is  al¬ 
ways  something  affecting  in  its  expression ;  and 
the  more  so,  because  the  foreseen  sadness  of  its 
disappointment  is  one  which  connects  itself  with 
the  natural  experience  of  Christian  life.  How 
much  is  there  in  this  to  remind  the  believer  of 
what  the  two  chosen  disciples  must  have  felt 
when  they  descended  from  the  Mount  of  Trans¬ 
figuration !  For  he,  too,  has  known  moments, 
perhaps  hours,  on  which  the  calm  of  eternity 
seemed  already  to  rest, — still,  blessed  seasons  in 
which  he  has  beheld,  not  only  Moses  and  Elias, 
but  his  own  life  also,  transfigured  in  his  beloved 
Lord  ;  times  in  which  things  present  were  intelligi- 
hle^  things  distant  clear.  And  he,  too,  has  come 
down,  like  them,  to  meet  the  full  shock  of  this 
life’s  perplexity,  to  be  met  by  human  anguish, 
the  struggles  of  the  demoniac,  the  tears  of  his 
father,  to  witness  and  perhaps  share  the  discom¬ 
fiture  of  his  brethren,  “  Why  could  not  we  cast 
him  out  ?  ”  to  listen  to  their  perverse  disputings 
as  to  “  who  among  them  should  be  greatest.” 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


189 


To  whom  shall  he  declare  the  glorious  revela¬ 
tion?  to  whom  shall  he  even  speak  ^  of  the 
things  which  he  has  seen  and  heard?  Yea, 
even  while  he  thinks  upon  the  Vision,  even  be¬ 
fore  it  has  had  time  to  fade,  he  may  find,  by  a 
sudden  blank  and  stillness  in  his  own  spirit,  that 
“  it  has  been  received  up  again  into  heaven.” 

“  A  little  while !  ”  said  the  disciples ;  “  what  is 
this  he  saith  ?  A  little  while  !  —  we  cannot  un¬ 
derstand  what  he  saith.”  A  little  while.,  and  ye 
shall  not  see  me.,  —  a  hard  saying  to  the  loving, 
confiding  heart,  which  would  fain  abide  forever 
where  it  has  found  it  so  good  to  be,  —  a  hard  but 

*  “  All  that  I  hold  worthiest^  says  David  Scott,  of  the  high 
ideal  objects  to  which  his  life  was  devoted,  seems  to  remove  me 
from  the  sphere  of  other  men.''  A  kindred  sense  of  isolation 
must  often  overtake  the  Christian,  and  it  is  one  which  he  must 
learn  to  meet  with  a  prepared  and  patient  heart.  We  must  be 
content  faithfully  to  speak  out  what  we  feel  and  know,  without 
expecting  that  others  will  be  proportionably  affected.  These 
things  have  been  shotm  to  us  by  God  himself,  worked  by  His 
Hand  into  the  very  frame  and  texture  of  the  soul ;  can  the  mere 
telling,  even  though  of  truth  itself,  affect  as  sensibly? 

Besides  this,  we  must  remember  that  it  is  not  only  spiritual 
things  that  appear  “  foolishness  "  in  the  absence  of  enlightened 
receptivity.  Young  people,  for  instance,  do  not,  cannot,  believe 
what  the  old  tell  them  of  life  and  its  trials;  and  what  mere 
jargon,  to  one  uninitiated,  appears  the  talk  of  two  enthusiasts 
upon  literature  and  art !  It  gives  him  a  secret  irritation ;  he  is 
not  only  uninfluenced  by  their  zeal,  but  scarcely  believes  that 
they  themselves  really  feel  what  they  express  so  strongly, 
knowing  that  the  world  to  him  goes  on  very  well  without  this 
foreign  element,  and  could  dispense  with  it  forever. 


140 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE'. 


inevitable  saying.  There  is  a  severity  in  our 
Lord’s  inner  discipline  which  reminds  the  be¬ 
liever  of  Joseph’s  making  himself  strange  unto 
his  brethren.  For  it  is  not  the  natural  man 
only  that  has  to  be  humbled  and  chastened  by 
Him,  the  spiritual  man  also  must  become  as  a 
weaned  child,  and  for  him  there  is  “  a  secret, 
low  fire  ”  kept  long  burning.  In  Christ,  as  well 
as  for  Christ,  they  are  to  be  counted  happy  who 
endure ;  who  bear  all  things,  —  silence,  delay, 
aridity,  for  thus  he  trains  his  Athletes. 

The  spiritual  life  is  a  world  within  itself;  with 
joys,  with  sorrows,  I  would  say  also  with  temp¬ 
tations.,  peculiarly  its  own ;  and  he  has  not  ad¬ 
vanced  far  within  its  borders  who  has  not  learnt 
the  truth  of  that  saying,  “  I  beheld,  and,  lo !  by 
the  very  gate  of  heaven  was  there  a  road  to 
hell,”  who  has  not  prayed  with  holy  Herbert 
for  deliverance  from  the  arrow  that  flieth  hy 
noonday.’’^  There  is  much  even  in  the  renewed 
mind  which,  if  suffered  to  remain  there,  would 
gradually  eat  away  the  heart  of  its  strength  and 
purity ;  something  in  each  believer,  which  he 
imagined  he  had  left  behind  when  he  forsook  all 
and  gave  himself  up  to  follow  Christ,  but  he 
finds  that  it  has  rushed  after  him,  like  Care  in 
the  ancient  proverb,  and  holds  to  him  with  as 
tight  a  grasp  as  ever. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


141 


How  many  tendencies,  and  these  not  to  be 
numbered  among  such  as  are  the  least  worthy, 
will  seek,  like  Clovis  and  his  Paladins,  for  a 
hollow,  hasty  baptism,  that  they  may  be  called 
by  Christ’s  name,  and  fight  his  battles,  remain¬ 
ing  just  what  they  were  at  first !  Therefore  the 
believer,  as  he  advances  in  self-knowledge, 
learns  to  bless  and  to  adore  those  piercing  yet 
enlightening  experiences  of  his  own  weakness, 
which,  as  it  were,  let  daylight  within  his  whole 
spiritual  being.  He  learns,  even  in  exclaiming, 
“  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  ?  ”  to  rejoice  in  those  its  deep-seated  in¬ 
firmities,  against  which  he  continually  prays  and 
strives,  —  he  finds  many  things  within  him,  piti¬ 
able  rather  than  sinful ;  hinderances  from  which 
he  longs  to  free  himself,  yet  learns  even  in  these 
to  recognize  his  true  though  humble  friends  and 
helpers ;  him  they  compel  to  hear  the  cross ;  and 
even  in  that  compulsory  bearing,  his  heart  so 
grows  to  it,  as  to  desire  no  independent  strength 
or  virtue.  ^'•Blessed  are  ye  poor. Blessed  are 
the  souls  in  whom  not  the  strength  of  nature 
only,  but  that  of  grace,  has  been  so  brought  low, 
even  to  the  very  dust,  that  they  have  learnt  to 
call  nothing  that  they  have  their  own. 

Often  must  the  believer,  like  Antaeus,  grow 
stronger  for  having  touched  the  ground;  often 


142 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


must  he  experience  the  sentence  of  death  in 
himself.)  —  must  feel  himself  a  Being  without 
heart  or  hope,  incapable  and  even  insensible,  so 
that  he  mav  learn  to  trust,  not  in  himself  or  in 
any  other,  but  in  Him  who  raises  the  spiritually 
dead.  The  Christian  must  hold  on  to  God, 
through  conflicts  and  agonies ;  he  must  fight 
while  his  blood  runs  down  and  glues  his  hand 
to  his  sword,  so  must  he  hold  on,  when  that 
hand  ^  is  benumbed  and  stiff  with  cold ;  when 
strength  and  consciousness  seem  gone  together, 
and  only  an  instinct  remains  through  which  the 
soul  is  able  to  fling  itself  like  a  dead  weight  upon 
Christ.  Yet  even  here  is 

^  The  fluctuations  to  which  spiritual  life  is  subject  show  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  in  making  so  much  of  it  to  reside  in 
duty,  a  principle  independent  of  the  variations  of  feeling.  There 
are  long  seasons  of  banishment  from  God’s  presence,  uncon¬ 
nected,  perhaps,  with  any  sense  of  His  displeasure,  in  which  the 
soul  must  say,  “  Make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  servants,”  and 
during  which,  even  in  the  absence  of  sensible  love  and  joy  and 
fervor,  it  may  be  able  to  testify  that  “  Great  is  the  peace  of  them 
that  love  thy  law." 

There  are  spaces  and  silences  in  the  Christian  life,  times 
which  it  is  impossible  to  describe,  because  “  full  desertness  ”  in 
souls,  as  in  countries,  “  lieth  bare,”  —  times  when  the  soul  seems 
devoid  of  the  capacity,  even  of  the  desire,  for  communion  with 
its  Lord,  yet  even  during  these  its  delight  in  His  service  may 
continue,  because  the  excellency  of  His  commandment  has  truly, 
however  imperfectly,  become  its  chief  and  chosen  good.  “  The 
poor,"  saith  our  Master,  “  ye  have  ever  with  you,  but  Me  ye  have 
not  always."  A  continual  service  of  love,  but  a  communion  not 
as  yet  abiding. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


143 


“  An  overthrow 
Worth  many  victories.” 

Througli  being  chilled  and  mortified  in  the  small¬ 
est,  most  inwardly  humiliating  things ;  through 
being  beaten  away  from  the  broken  cisterns  of 
self  and  of  all  creatures,  we  learn,  as  we  could 
never  without  this  have  done,  to  look  to  Christ 
as  our  well  of  life,  and  so  to  find  all  our  fresh 
springs  in  him,  as  to  be  able  to  say  with  a  simple 
and  sincere  heart,  “  Lord,  give  me  evermore  of 
this  water.,  so  that  I  thirst  not,  neither  come 
hither  to  draw.” 

“  He  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste.” 
Blessed  are  they,  thou  good  Joseph,  who  love 
thee  even  as  thou  art ;  who  trust  thee  in  spite 
of  thy  silence  and  thy  strangeness,  thy  long  de¬ 
lays,  thy  repeated  questionings,  thy  withdrawal 
into  thy  secret  chamber,  thy  protracted  tarrying 
there.  “  Blessed  is  he  who  shall  not  be  offended 
in  Me.” 

For  Wisdom,  even  in  this  world,  is  justified 
of  her  children  ;  most  so  of  all  in  Him,  her  chief, 
her  only  beloved  Son,  without  Whom  was  not 
anything  made  that  was  made,  yet  who  rejoices 
in  the  habitable  parts  of  the  earth,  and  whose 
delights  are  with  the  sons  of  men.  I  know  not 

how  to  speak  of  that  great  era  in  the  Christian’s 

« 

soul  when,  whether  through  the  Strength  of  a 


144 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE, 


patient  following,  or  througli  the  sweetness  of  a 
loving  recognition,  it  finds  Him  whom  it  has 
long  loved,  and  passes,*  in  that  finding,  from  the 
straitened  life  within  itself  into  the  free  outlook- 
ing  from  self  into  Christ.  When  it  ceases  to 
confer  with  flesh  and  blood,  to  watch  over  its 
own  changes  and  fluctuations,  for  the  sake  of 
attaching  itself  implicitly  to  Him  who  is  the 
whole  of  what  we  have  in  part ;  when  it  lives 
no  longer  by  faith,f  but  by  Christ,  holding  Him 

*  “  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love,  therefore  with 
loving-kindness  have  I  drawn  thee.”  After  long  conscientious 
serving  of  God,  refreshed  by  little  feeling  of  joy  or  comfort,  there 
are  moments  when  the  soul  seems  suddenly  made  aware  of  its 
own  happiness,  —  when,  either  through  outward  circumstances  or 
without  them,  an  appeal  is  borne  in  upon  it  as  direct,  as  pleading, 
as  distinct,  as  that  which  was  made  of  old  to  Peter,  “  Simon,  son 
of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  me  ?  ”  and  it  is  able  to  answer  out  of  its 
very  depths,  “  Lord,  thou  knowest.”  Its  love  for  its  Lord  being 
as  surely  felt,  as  little  to  be  doubted  as  its  own  being,  it  answers 
as  steadfastly  as  if  asked  whether  a  parent  or  child  was  loved  — 
it  dares  even  to  appeal  to  the  omniscience  of  the  heart-searching 
God,  —  “  Thou  knowesV'  Such  moments  are  surely  more  to  us 
than  a  passing  comfort.  Do  they  not  teach  us  something  of  the 
depth  of  those  words,  “  We  love  him  because  he  Jirst  loved  us. 
For  is  not  this  also  of  the  Lord,  —  this  tender  attraction,  this 
warmth,  at  which  the  frozen  waters  of  the  heart  break  up  and 
flow  forth  as  at  the  breath  of  spring?  And  does  not  this  seeking 
of  our  love  on  Christ’s  part  convince  us  that  he  is  ever  loving  us 
in  our  colder  as  well  as  more  fervent  seasons,  and  that,  in  being 
drawn  by  his  loving-kindness,  we  have  laid  hold  on  his  everlast¬ 
ing  love,  —  a  chain  which  runs  backwards  and  forwards  through 
all  eternity? — J.  E.  B. 

t  Note  K. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


145 


too  surely  to  think  of  that  it  holds  by,  —  it 
has  done ‘with  self-questioning,  with  self-analy¬ 
sis;  it  believes  in  the  love  hy  which  it  lives.,  and 
can  appeal  for  all  answer  to  the  fact  of  its  own 
life. 

And  I  know  not  what  should  more  cheer  and 
gladden  a  Christian  than  to  see  his  spiritual  hfe 
losing  everything  of  an  exotic  character ;  to  have 
it  set  in  the  open  air,  welcoming  the  wind  from 
every  quarter ;  acquiescing  in  all  things  because 
depending  only  upon  one.  A  free  and  sustained 
spirit  becomes  habitual  to  him,  who,  in  the  break¬ 
ing  of  his  daily  bread,  has  found  that  Real  Pres¬ 
ence  which  sanctifies  and  glorifies  our  life’s  poor 
/  Elements.  When  the  heart  has  found  its  true 
gravitation,  it  leaves  that  Rest  slowly  and  re¬ 
turns  to  it  quickly;  disturbing  influences  will  ’ 
be  felt  from  time  to  time,  but  their  power  is 
gone,  —  “  that  which  is  the  strongest  must  win.'^ 
A  firm,  assured  patience  grows  upon  the  Chris¬ 
tian,  enabling  him  to  hold  upon  his  way,  unde¬ 
terred,  unchilled,  by  whatever  he  may  meet 
upon  it ;  enabling  him  also,  I  know  not  to 
what  inner  music,  to  build  up  his  spirit  to  a 
Strength  of  calm,  reliant  conviction,  even  with 
the  stones  he  finds  there,  as  a  brook  lifts  up 
a  more  clear  and  rapid  voice  for  flowing  over 
pebbles.  Roughness  and  littleness,  indifference 
7 


J 


146 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


and  contradiction,  for  all  of  these  the  heart  that 
has  made  room  for  Christ  finds  room,  in  a  stead¬ 
fast,  not  scornful  allowance. 

The  strain  upon  the  inner  life  has  passed  over 
from  self  to  Christ,  and  with  that  strain  the 
uneasy  pressure  which  may  once  have  tended 
to  something  of  exaggeration  and  eccentricity. 
Time  was  when  the  believer  was  often  fain, 
with  the  Gaul  of  old,  to  decide  a  doubtful  ques¬ 
tion  by  violence,  to  fling  his  sword  within  the 
wavering  balance.  He  can  now  afibrd,  like  the 
practised  archer  in  sending  home  his  arrow,  to 
allow  for  the  set  of  the  wind  it  flies  through. 
His  heart  has  grown  wdse,  instructed,  tolerant, 
tender  with  weakness,  patient  of  imperfection: 

“  Who  is  blind  as  he  that  is  perfect, 

And  blind  as  the  Lord’s  servant?  ” 

How  quiet  such  a  life  is  I  how  fruitful ! — fruit¬ 
ful  because  it  is  so  quiet ;  it  works  not,  hut  lives 
and  grows.  The  uneasy  effort  has  passed  out  of 
it ;  unresting.,  because  it  rests  always.,  it  has  done 
with  task-work  and  anxiety ;  it  serves,  yet  is 
not  cumbered  with  much  serving ;  it  has  ceased 
from  that  sad  complaint,  —  ‘‘  Thou  hast  left  me 
to  serve  alone.’’^ 

Such  a  life  will  seem  less  spiritual  only  be¬ 
cause  it  has  grown  more  natural ;  the  soul  moves 
in  an  atmosphere  which  of  itself  brings  it  ‘  into 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


.147 


contact  with  all  great  and  enduring  things,  and 
it  has  only  to  draw  in  its  breath  to  he  filled  and 
satisfied.  I  know  not  how  to  describe  the  grand¬ 
eur  and  simplicity  of  the  state  that  is  no  longer 
self-bounded,  self-referring ;  how  great  a  thing 
to  such  a  freed  and  rejoicing  spirit  the  life  in 
Christ  Jesus  seems  ;  a  temple  truly  “  not  of  this 
building,”  too  great  to  be  mapped  out  and  meas¬ 
ured  ;  *  too  great  to  he  perfect  here,  A  thought 
for  which  our  mortal  life,  —  a  language  as  yet 
too  broken  and  confused  to 

Catch  up  the  whole  of  love  and  utter  it,”  — 

can  find  no  corresponding  word.f 

Yet  Experience,  even  the  deep  assurance 
of  our  present  imperfectibility,  worketh  Hope. 
Though  the  Church,  like  the  moon,  seldom 
reflects  the  clear  outline,  never  the  full  splendor 
of  the  light  she  shines  by ;  though  the  shadow 

*  Note  L. 

t  De  Quincey,  speaking  of  the  grandeur  and  subtilty  of  the 
human  spirit,  says  most  beautifully,  that  all  of  our  thoughts  have 
not  words  corresponding  to  them;  many  of  them  in  our  yet  im¬ 
perfectly  developed  nature  can  never  express  themselves  in  acts, 
but  must  lie,  appreciable  by  God  only,  like  the  silent  melodies  in  a 
great  Musician’s  heart,  never  to  roll  forth  from  harp  or  organ. 

In  connection  with  this  idea,  in  how  sublime  a  light  does  His 
Name  —  The  Word  —  place  our  Saviour.  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
Word  of  God,  him  in  Whom  the  Father’s  thought  has  found  full 
and  perfect  utterance.  “  For  I  know  the  thoughts  that  I  think 
concerning  you,”  saith  the  Lord,  “  thoughts  of  peace,  and  not  of 
evil,  to  give  you  an  expected  end." 


148 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


of  earth  is  too  often  cast  between  her  orb  and 
Him,  she  is  still  “  the  faithful  witness  in 
heaven,”  weakness  girt  about  with  power,  the 
Woman  clothed  with  the  Sun,  a  Wonder  in 
earth  and  in  heaven.  Though  the  believer  is 
no  plant  grown  up  in  his  youth,  fair  and 
flourishing,  without  blight  or  mildew;  though 
he  may  be  far  indeed  from  sealing  up  the  sum, 
‘‘  full  of  wisdom  and  perfect  in  beauty,”  still, 
in  spite  of  every  warp  and  hinderance,  he  has 
grown^  and  his  life  has  become  to  him  but  a 
Prophecy  of  the  life  it  keeps  warm  within  it,  — 

“  Close  comprest, 

Our  Present  holds  our  Future,  like  a  Eose 
That  may  not  yet  its  perfect  Soul  unclose, 

Lest  angry  winds  should  scatter  or  molest.” 

And  as  the  Christian  advances  upon  his  way, 
a  sweet  and  solemn  sense  of  the  unity  of  life 
grows  upon  his  spirit.  ‘‘We  are  complete  in 
Him  ”  ;  much  of  our  life,  if  viewed  in  itself 
only,  would  appear  purposeless  and  broken,  yet 
Christ  has  said,  “  Gather  up  these  fragments 
that  remain,  so  that  nothing  be  lost.”  We 
learn  to  look  at  life  as  a  whole  thing ;  not  to  be 
discouraged  by  this  or  that  adverse  circum¬ 
stance,  remembering  how  much  there  is  and 
will  be  in  that  life  which  is  “  like  frost  and 
snow,  kindly  to  the  root^  though  hurtful  to  the 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


149 


flower,”  fatal  to  the  bloom  and  fragrance,  the 
lovely  and  enjoyable  part  of  our  nature,  but 
friendly  to  its  true,  imperishable  life.  Looking 
at  ourselves,  we  may  see  that,  under  a  slight, 
sometimes  a  very  slight,  modification  of  inward 
bent,  or  outward  circumstance,  we  should  have 
been  far  more  happy,  more  beloved,  apparently 
more  useful  than  now ;  yet  we  may  also  see  as 
plainly,  as  we  confess  it  humbly,  that  we  have 
attained,  through  all  these  losses,  to  that  to 
which  every  gain  is  even  present,  appreciable 
loss.  And  here  I  would  gladly  say  something 
of  those  gracious  outward  providences  through 
which  God  will  sometimes  visibly  visit  and 
refresh  the  spirit,  turning  over,  perhaps  for¬ 
ever,  a  tear-stained  page  of  contradiction,  and 
unfolding  a  fresh  leaf  of  richer,  happier  experi¬ 
ence  ; 

“  For  not  forever  will  lie  continue  thus  to  thresh  it, 

Not  to  vex  it  with  the  wheel  of  his  wain, 

Nor  to  bruise  it  with  the  hoofs  of  his  cattle. 

•  •  •  •  • 

In  just  measure  when  thou  inflictest  the  stroke,  thou  wilt 
debate  with  her. 

With  due  deliberation  even  in  the  rough  tempest.” 

Gradually,  almost  imperceptibly,  the  believer 
will  find  the  current  of  his  existence  sweeping 
into  a  broader  channel ;  will  find  “  doors  open¬ 
ing  ”  upon  him,  doors  of  happiness,  doors  of 


150 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


usefulness,  which  will  he  to  him  a  Gate  of 
Heaven ;  “  windows  opening,”  letting  in  the 
breath  of  summer  upon  his  soul,  filling  it  with 
sunshine  and  sweet  air  ;  suddenly  too,  in  the 
deep  emergencies  of  life,  some  new  interest, 
some  friend,  will  appear  like  the  Great  Twin 
Brethren,  or  Saint  of  old,  in  the  thick  of  the 
battle,  vanishing  perhaps  when  the  fight  is  over, 
yet  blessing  him  even  in  vanishing  from  his 
sight. 

For  that  terrible  saying  of  Anne  of  Austria 
to  Bichelieu  holds  true  for  mercy  as  well  as  for 
judgment :  “  My  Lord  Cardinal,  God  does  not 
pay  at  the  end  of  every  week,  but  at  the  last  he 
pays.”  God  may  put  his  faithful  ones  upon  a 
long  and  painful  apprenticeship,  during  which 
they  learn  much  and  receive  little,  —  food  only, 
and  “that  in  a  measure,”  —  often  the  bread 
and  water  of  affliction.  Yet  at  the  last  he 
pays  ;  pays  them  into  their  hearts,  pays  them 
into  their  hands  also.  We  may  remember  long 
seasons  of  faint  yet  honest  endeavor  ;  the  pray¬ 
ers  of  a  soul  yet  without  strength  ;  the  sacrifices 
of  an  imperfectly  subdued  will,  bound  even  with 
cords  to  the  altar ;  we  may  remember  such 
times,  or  we  may  forget  them,  but  their  result 
is  with  us.  Some  of  the  good  seed  sown  in 
tears  is  now  shedding  a  heavenly  fragrance 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


151 


within  our  lives,  and  some  of  it  will  blossom, 
perhaps  bear  fruit,  over  our  graves.^ 

There  are  moments  in  the  Christian  life  upon 
which  the  spoil  of  a  long  conflict  seems  heaped, 
in  which  it  can  rejoice  even  with  the  joy  of 
a  late  yet  abounding  harvest.  Seasons,  too, 
sometimes  prolonged  ones,  which  recall  what 
the  historians  of  the  Middle  Ages  tell  us  of  the 
Truce  of  God,  —  set,  appointed  times  when  the 
land  had  rest,  and  war  and  violence  were  no 
more  heard  within  its  borders ;  so  are  there 
blessed  intervals,  wherein  the  soul  reckons  up 
many  desolated  Sabbaths,  and  enjoys  a  God- 
given,  God-protected  rest. 

Light  is  good,  and  it  is  a  pleasant  thing  to 
behold  the  sun.  Yet  far  dearer  than  outward 
peace,  far  sweeter  than  inward  consolation,  is 
that,  the  ever-during  stay,  the  solace  of  the 
Christian’s  heart,  the  imperishable  Root  of  which 
all  else  that  gladdens  it  is  but  the  bloom  and 


*  “  I  have  remarked,”  says  Palissy,  “  trees  and  plants  which 
felt  their  decay  approaching,  and  which  before  death  hastened  to 
bring  forth  fruit  and  grain  before  the  accustomed  time.  —  What  if 
I  spoke  of  men  V  ” 

We  may  compare  what  our  Saviour  says,  “Except  a  corn  of 
wheat  die,  it  abideth  alone,  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth  much 
fruit,”  with  the  fact  that  his  brethren,  who  did  not  believe  on 
him  during  his  life,  were,  after  his  death,  in  two  known  and 
other  probable  cases,  his  devoted  followers  and  martyrs. 


152 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


odor ;  the  dry  tree  *  that  shall  flourish  when 
every  green  tree  of  delight  and  of  desire  fails. 
It  is  to  the  Cross  that  the  heart  must  turn  for 
that  which  will  reconcile  it  to  all  conflicts,  all 
privations  ;  which  will  even  enable  it,  foreseeing 
them.,  to  exclaim,  Yet  more.”  When  Christ 
is  lifted  up  within  the  believing  soul,  nothing  is 
too  hard  for  it  to  venture  upon  or  endure ;  it 
rests  upon  a  power  beyond  itself,  and  can  bring 
its  whole  strength  to  bear  upon  generous,  ex¬ 
alted  enterprise.  Show  thy  servant  thy  work., 
and  his  own  will  be  indeed  easy  !  Let  this 
powerful  attraction  be  once  felt,  the  heart’s,  the 
world’s  great  and  final  Overcoming,  and  all 
other  bonds  will  weaken,  all  other  spells  decay. 
“  Midnight  is  pastf  sings  the  sailor  on  the 
Southern  Ocean,  —  '•^Midnight  is  past;  the  Cross 
begins  to  hendJ^^ 

Outward  duties  weary,  inward  consolations 
fail.  Charity  never  faileth.  Let  us  now  turn  aside 
and  look  upon  this  great  sight,  —  of  Love  that 
burneth  with  fire,  yet  is  not  consumed  ;  of  Love 
that,  having  poured  out  its  soul  unto  death,  yet 
liveth  to  see  of  that  soul’s  long  travail  and  to  be 
satisfied  with  it.  “  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God, 
that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.”  When 
were  Love’s  arms  stretched  so  wide  as  upon  the 


*  Ezek.  xvii.  24. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  HOPE. 


153 


Cross  ?  When  did  they  embrace  so  much  as 
when  thou,  O  Christ,  didst  gather  within  thy 
bosom  the  spears  and  arrows  of  the  mighty  to 
open  us  a  Lane  for  Freedom ! 

“  Thou  art  gone  up  on  high ;  thou  hast  led 
captivity  captive :  thou  hast  received 
gifts  for  men ;  yea,  for  the 
rebellious  also,  that  the 
Lord  God  might 
dwell  among 
them.” 


fife#.;  -  ;%  ■  2^’-^*  ■■•'■.--  'a  . 

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fe  lfr  ■  -V;:5^s  •  ■4' 


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S  , 

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- -i. .  '  •  '  4 .  >  *  ••, .  ■  *  i  ».;  .•  ■  • 


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■'pts 


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l-V.l' 


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■  ■  ^  ,1  ■  R  '-'i'  ■■  ‘  >  ■  ■— r'v''* 


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■  -  v:  ^  •  / 


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■  -’  > 

•  I  *♦  ■*' 


Notes. 


Notes. 

—4 - 

Note  A.  —  Page  51. 

LORD,  what  a  wonderful  spirit  was 
that  which  made  St.  Paul,  in  setting 
forth  of  himself  against  the  vanity  of 
Satan’s  false  apostles,  hand  in  his  claim 
here  that  he  in  Christ’s  cause  did  excel  and  surpass 
them  all?  What  wonderful  spirit  was  that,  I  say,  that 
made  him  to  reckon  up  all  his  troubles  and  labors, 
his  beatings,  his  whippings,  his  scourgings,  his  ship¬ 
wrecks,  his  dangers  and  perils  by  water  and  by  land, 
famine,  hunger,  nakedness  and  cold,  with  many  more, 
and  the  daily  care  of  all  the  congregations  of  Christ, 
among  whom  every  man’s  pain  did  pierce  his  heart, 
and  every  man’s  grief  was  grievous  unto  him? 

Lordf  is  this  Paul’s  ‘primacy^  whereof  he  ihough^so^ 
much  good  that  he  did  excel  all  others  f  Is  not 
Paul’s  saying  unto  Timothy,  his  own  scholar,  and  doth 
it  not  pertain  to  whosoever  will  be  Christ’s  true  sol¬ 
diers  ?  Bear  thou,  saith  he,  affliction  like  a  true  sol- 


158 


NOTES. 


dier  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  true ;  if  we  die  with 
Christ,  we  shall  live  with  him ;  if  we  suffer  with  him, 
we  shall  reign  with  him ;  if  we  deny  him,  he  shall 
deny  us ;  if  we  be  faithless,  he  remaineth  faithful :  he 
cannot  deny  himself.  This  Paul  would  have  known 
to  everybody ;  for  there  is  no  other  way  to  heaven  hut 
Christ  and  his  wayT  —  Bishop  Ridley’s  Farewell 
Letter  to  his  Fellow-PrisonerSy  and  those  who  were 
exiled  for  the  Gospel  of  Christ, 

— • — 

Note  B.  —  Page  54. 

“  NOW  you  what  our  Saviour  says  to  his  dear 

■  ^  Peter?  ‘  When  thou  wast  young,  thou  didst 
gird  thyself,  and  didst  walk  where  thou  wouldst:  hut 
when  thou  shalt  he  old,  thou  shalt  stretch  forth  thy 
hand,  and  another  shall  gird  thee,  and  lead  thee  whith¬ 
er  thou  wouldst  noC  (St.  John  xxi.  18.) 

“The  young  scholars  in  the  love  of  God  gird  them¬ 
selves  ;  they  choose  their  penance,  resignation,  devo¬ 
tion  ;  they  do  their  own  will  in  doing  the  will  of  God. 
But  the  old  masters  in  that  love  suffer  themselves  to 
be  bound  and  girded  by  another ;  they  go  by  ways 
ffibich  they  would  not  choose  according  to  their  own 
inclinations ;  they  stretch  forth  their  hands,  allowing 
thfemselves  to  be  governed  willingly  against  their 
will;  they  say  that  ^obedience  is  better  than  sacri¬ 
fices'* ;  they  glorify  God,  crucifying  not  only  their 
flesh  but  their  spirit.”  —  St.  Francis  de  Sales. 


NOTES. 


159 


Note  C.  — Page  57. 

IN  one  of  Vinet’s  works  on  the  Christian  life  are 
some  excellent  remarks  on  St.  Paul’s  words,  “  the 
feeble  members  are  the  more  necessary.”  Their 
silent,  unseen  work,  so  humble  in  its  mode  of  action 
that  sometimes  its  value  is  first  learnt  through  the 
sensible  blank  its  withdrawal  leaves,  is  lasting  work 
because  it  is  real  work,  done  and  followed,  if  fol¬ 
lowed  at  all,  “  for  the  work’s  sake.”  But  it  is  evident¬ 
ly  far  otherwise  when  genius,  learning,  or  extraordi¬ 
nary  force  of  character,  things  which  have  a  powerful 
attraction  in  themselves,  are  consecrated  to  the  service 
of  Christ.  In  spirits  thus  gifted  —  its  burning  and 
shining  lights — the  Church  must  be  willing  to  rejoice 
“  for  a  season,”  for  much  that  they  bring  with  them 
will  depart  when  they  go ;  the  foreign  elements  will 
break  up  and  scatter  when  the  cord  which  binds 
them  together  is  slackened  by  absence  or  unloosed' 
by  death.  We  see  this  in  the  lives  of  all  men  who 
have  been,  like  Xavier  and  Schwartz,  greatly  be¬ 
loved  by  man  as  well  as  by  God.  Much  of  their 
work  seems  to  vanish  with  them,  reappearing  after  a 
time  under  humbler  forms. 


ICO 


NOTES. 


Note  D.  —  Page  62. 

HE  poetry  of  the  Psalms  is  formed,  not  like 


A  that  of  modern  languages,  by  the  response  of 
answering  syllables,  but  of  answering  thoughts.  This 
peculiar  form  of  composition  was  perhaps  originally 
founded  upon  that  correspondence  which  a  devout 
soul  perceives  to  exist  in  all  the  creation  of  God, 
between  the  thing  seen  and  unseen, —  a  correspond¬ 
ence  upon  which  the  teaching  of  aU  our  Lord’s 
parables  is  grounded.  The  two  things,  the  thing  ex¬ 
pressing  and  the  thing  expressed,  exist  together,  side 
hy  side  in  fact,  and  so  they  fall  together,  by  a  natural 
process,  side  hy  side,  in  the  poetry  which  describes 
them.  Thus  in  Psalm  ciii.  verses  11  —  13  : 

The  height  of  the  heavens  illustrates  the  boundless  nature  of 
God’s  mercy: 

The  expanse  from  east  to  west  the  distance  to  which  he  has 
removed  our  sins. 

The  love  and  pity  of  an  earthly  father: 

The  love  and  pity  of  a  Heavenly  one. 

“  ‘  So  consider  the  works  of  the  Most  High,  and 
there  are  two  and  two,  one  against  another^  (Ecclus. 
xxxiii.  15.)  ”  —  Plain  Commentary  on  the  Psalms. 

% 


NOTES, 


161 


Note  E.  —  Page  63. 

OBSERVE  what  vivid  brightness  was  cast  upon 
all  parts  of  the  Old  Testament  at  the  first  ap¬ 
pearing  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  learn  from  this  what 
will  be  the  radiance  of  the  Scriptures  at  His  Second 
Advent.  The  true  disciples  under  the  Old  Covenant 
were  ever  waiting,  ‘^searching,”  as  St.  Peter  says, 
“  to  discover  what  the  Spirit  which  was  in  them  did 
signify,  when  it  testified  beforehand  the  sufferings  of 
Christ,  and  the  glory  which  should  follow.”  But 
looking  back  to  the  time  of  Jeremiah,  the  Maccabees, 
or  that  of  the  Second  Temple,  how  strange  must 
many  passages  of  Scripture,  now  sparkling  before 
our  eyes  with  divine  lustre,  have  appeared  to  the 
rationalist  of  the  ancient  synagogue!  How  puerile 
in  some  parts,  how  exaggerated  and  inexplicable  in 
others,  how  devoid  of  learning  and  utility  must  have 
appeared  to  them  many  chapters  and  verses  which  at 
this  day  feed  our  faith,  and  fill  us  with  a  sense  of 
the  majestic  unity  of  Scripture,  cause  our  tears  to 
flow,  and  bring  weary  and  heavy-laden  sinners  to  the 
feet  of  Jesus.  What  said  they  to  Isaiah  liii.,  to 
Psalms  xxiio,  Ixix.,  and  many  others  ?  How  strange 
and  little  worthy  of  the  Lord  must  have  appeared 
much  that  was  contained  in  these,  and  in  other 
psalms,  prophecies,  and  types  descriptive  of  Him. 
Yet  what  gospel  truth  has  come  forth  from  these! 
What  unfolding  of  redeeming  love  1  Let  us  there- 


162 


NOTES. 


fore  await  even  more  glorious  revelations  in  the  day 
when  our  Master  shall  descend  from  heaven,  for,  says 
Irenaeus,  “  the  Scriptures  contain  difficulties  which 
grace  even  now  enables  us  to  resolve ;  but  there  are 
others  which  we  leave  to  God,  not  only  as  respects 
this  generation,  but  those  to  come,  in  order  that  it 
may  be  God  perpetually  teaching,  and  man  perpetu- 
ally  learning  from  God  the  things  that  are  of  God.” 

Yet  then  shall  we  see  the  full  meaning  of  many 
prophecies,  facts,  and  instructions,  whose  Divine  char¬ 
acter  is  now  only  seen  in  detached  features :  then 
will  be  known  the  import  of  those  parables,  even 
now  so  impressive,  of  the  fig-tree,  —  of  the  master 
returning  from  a  far  country, — of  the  bridegroom  and 
bride,  —  of  the  net  drawn  to  the  shore  of  eternity,  — 
of  Lazarus,  —  of  the  guests,  —  of  the  husbandmen 
and  of  the  marriage-feast.  Then  will  be  known  all 
the  glory  of  such  expressions  as  these :  “  The  Lord 
said  unto  my  Lord,  ‘  Sit  thou  at  my  right  hand,  until 
thine  enemies  be  made  thy  footstool.’  ”  “  Thy  people. 
Lord,  shall  be  willing  in  the  day  of  thy  power.” 
‘‘  The  dew  of  thy  youth  shall  be  of  the  womb  of  the 
morning.”  “  He  shall  wound  the  head  of  him  who 
rules  over  a  great  country.”  “  He  shall  drink  of  the 
brook  in  the  way,  therefore  shall  he  lift  up  the 
head.” 

Then  also  thou  wilt  reveal  thyself  to  us  in  all  thy 
glory.  Lord  Jesus,  Saviour,  Comforter,  Friend  of  the 
desolate,  our  Lord  and  our  God !  |  Thou  who  hast 
seen  death,  but  who  art  alive  forevermore.  Then 


NOTES. 


163 


will  all  the  knowledge  of  heaven  be  centred  in  Thy¬ 
self, —  the  knowledge  which  the  Holy  Ghost  even 
now  imparts,  the  knowledge  in  which  Scripture  even 
now  instructs  us,  for  “  the  testimony  of  Jesus  is  the 
spirit  of  prophecy.” — See  conclusion  of  Theopneustia. 

— ♦— 


Note  F.  —  Page  86. 


SEE  on  this  text  a  sermon  by  Krummacher. — 
Tower  Church  Sermons. 


— ♦ — 

Note  G.  —  Page  101. 

IT  is  often  through  the  sore  trouble  of  the  soul  that 
the  spirit,  the  part  of  us  in  which  God  lives, 
is  renewed  from  day  to  day.  When  “  God,”  says 
Jeremy  Taylor,  “  would  save  man,  he  did  it  hy  way 
of  a  man  ”  ;  yet  devotional  authors  seem  little  famil¬ 
iar  with  that  fearful  and  beautiful  thing,  our  sensitive 
and  rational  nature,  and  in  their  writings  slender 
allowance  is  made  for  all  that  middle  region  of  feel¬ 
ings  and  tendencies  which,  themselves  neither  good 
nor  evil,  blend  with  and  color  for  evil  and  for  good 
our  whole  spiritual  life,  with  which  they  are  linked 
far  more  intimately  than  we  imagine.  In  such  writ¬ 
ers,  we  trace  but  little  communion  with  the  joy  and 


164 


NOTES. 


sorrow  and  beauty  of  this  earth,  ‘‘glad,  sad,  and 
sweet,”  so  that  we  sometimes  wonder  if  they  have 
known  any  enjoyments,  pangs,  or  conflicts,  but  such 
as  belong  to  the  life  that  is  in  God.  To  be  assured 
that  they  had  joyed  and  sorrowed,  and  loved  as  men 
and  women,  and  as  such  had  felt  Christ’s  unspeakable 
consolations,  would  be  a  touch  of  nature  making 
them  our  kin.  But  it  seldom  comes.  St.  Thomas  k 
Kempis,  for  instance,  dismisses  a  whole  world  of  feel¬ 
ing  in  two  lines,  “  Love  no  woman  in  particular,  but 
commend  all  good  women  in  general  to  God.”  In 
Madame  Guyon  and  Edwards  we  long,  and  long  in 
vain,  to  see  the  hand  of  a  man  under  the  wings  of  the 
cherubim,  and  to  feel  its  pressure.  There  is  some¬ 
thing  deeply  consoling  in  a  betrayal  of  personal 
feeling,  as  when  Doddridge  laments  for  his  little 
daughter.  “This  day  my  heart  hath  been  almost 
torn  in  pieces  by  sorrow,  yet  sorrow  so  softened  and 
so  sweetened,  that  I  number  it  among  the  best  days 
of  my  life.  Doest  thou  well  to  be  angry  for  the 
gourd  ?  God  knows  I  am  not  angry,  hut  sorrowful  he 
surely  allows  me  to  he.  Lord,  give  unto  me  a  holy 
acquiescence  of  soul  in  thee,  and  now  that  my  gourd 
is  withered,  shelter  me  under  the  shadow  of  thy 
wings.”  Here  we  see  the  man  (most  a  saint  in  being 
most  a  man)  agonized  like  his  Master,  and  like  him 
strengthened  from  on  high,  but  by  One  greater  than 
the  angel. 


NOTES. 


165 


Note  H.  —  Page  111. 

WHILE,  as  regards  the  great  essentials  of 
Christianity,  things  remain  as  they  are,* 
not  as  we  wish,  conceive,  or  think  of  them,  we  cannot 
but  perceive  a  diversity  in  the  way  in  which  we  are 
led  up  to  them,  which  answers  to  the  infinite  variety 
of  the  human  spirit.  We  see  how  the  great  Apostle 
of  the  Gentiles,  determined  as  he  was  to  know  and 
preach  nothing  among  them  but  Christ  and  Him 
crucified,  knew  at  the  same  time  how  to  be  all  things 
to  all  men,  meeting  each  one  upon  his  peculiar 
ground,  while  he  held  his  own  with  immovable  tenaci¬ 
ty.  As  that  which  he  had  to  declare  remained  fixed 
and  absolute,  he  did  not  change  the  truth  to  render 
it  acceptable  to  his  hearers,  but,  as  he  himself  words 
it,  he  changed  his  voice^  so  as  to  bring  truth  before 
them  under  the  aspect  to  which  native  bias  or  pre¬ 
vious  training  rendered  them  most  open. 

We  find  in  Mysticism  a  tendency  to  trample  out 
rather  than  to  train  and  modify  the  bent  of  nature, 
and  this  from  an  ardent  desire  for  union  with  the 
Divine  essence,  which  touches  at  every  point  upon 
Pantheistic  absorption,  and  tends  to  substitute  a  blank 
uniformity  for  the  energy  and  feature  of  Christian 
life.  “Because  I  live,”  saith  our  Lord,  “ye  shall 
live  also,”  and  as  living,  be  partakers  in  that  which 
belongs  to  Life,  —  freedom,  expansion,  and  variety. 

*  Taylor. 


166 


NOTES. 


It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  each  one  among  the 
branches  of  our  Lord’s  great  family  preserves  some 
portion  of  His  teaching  more  faithfully,  reflects  some 
aspect  of  his  character  more  clearly,  than  is  done  by 
the  rest ;  and  passing  from  churches  to  individuals,  we 
shall  find  that  they  who  are  in  Christ  will  resemble 
each  other  in  so  much  as  they  resemble  him ;  they 
will  be  like  each  other  (as  in  earthly  relationships) 
without  being  alike.  Our  natural  characteristics  are 
not  obliterated ;  rather  is  the  man  renewed  after 
Christ’s  likeness  restored  to  Himself,  that  excellent 
thing  for  which  God  made  him  at  the  first,  the  type 
from  which  he  had  consciously  fallen  away. 

— • — 


Note  I.  —  Page  137. 


WHEN,  and  to  whom,  has  the  perfect  circle 
of  Truth  been  visible?  Certain  portions 
of  it  seem  always  in  the  shade,  though  no  portion  of 
it  can  remain  there  long.  It  seems  God’s  will  that 
earnest  and  faithful-minded  men  should  be  continually 
from  age  to  age  bringing  forward  such  fragments  of 
it  as  have  fastened  on  their  own  minds  in  such  strong 
and  (relatively)  undue  prominence,  that  they  are  con¬ 
strained  to  present  them  to  the  world  as  they  arise, 
where,  like  plants  set  in  the  ground  with  reference  to 
fitness  of  clime  and  season,  they  wither,  but  not  before 
they  have  fructified  and  shed  seed,  which,  falling  on 
a  more  prepared  soil,  brings  forth  fruit  to  perfection. 


NOTES. 


167 


The  heat  and  extravagance  with  which  it  was  at  first 
accompanied  fall  off  like  husks  from  the  ripened  ear, 
and  the  truth  which  these  have  kept  warm,  while  it 
had  to  push  its  way  through  cold,  earthy  obstructions, 
unfolds  in  its  fulness.  In  the  physical  world  this 
holds  true  of  the  secrets  which  disentangled  them¬ 
selves  from  the  follies  of  alchemy,  and  perhaps  ap¬ 
plies  to  many  systems  of  our  present  day,  which,  con- 
tainino;  a  vital  essence  of  truth,  overlaid  with  much 
that  is  fantastic,  will  themselves  die  out;  yet,  under 
other  conditions,  exert  an  influence  on  general  science. 
So  in  the  moral  and  spiritual  world  we  see  forms 
perishing  because  of  the  life  that  is  in  them.  We  say 
Quakerism  has  decayed  and  dwindled  ;  but  why  ? 
even  because  the  wide  and  loving  principles  it  pro¬ 
mulgated  in  an  age  of  dreary  spiritual  exclusivism, 
have  been,  since  the  days  of  the  Early  Friends  (the 
first  apostles  of  so  many  a  holy  cause),  gradually  and 
silently  incorporated  into  the  thoughts  of  Christian 
men  in  general.  They,  as  Howitt  says,  have  missed 
being  a  great  people,  but  the  truths  they  so  simply 
and  perseveringly  advocated  have  not  failed  of  their 
mark.  Neander,  speaking  of  reformers  of  the  heart 
only,  guided  by  the  pure  will  without  the  reflective 
wisdom,  says,  “  Their  efforts  are  as  a  fire  catching 
rapidly  at  all  around  it,  but  working  rather  destruc¬ 
tively  than  as  an  abiding  warmth  or  a  clear,  diffusive 
blaze.  .  .  .  Before  the  coming  of  a  great  light,  its 
approach  is  heralded  by  lesser  lights,  which,  after 
shining  in  the  darkness,  seem  to  disappear.  Before 


168 


NOTES. 


a  decisive  and  general  triumph  of  the  right,  its  way 
is  first  cleansed  by  the  blood  of  victims  who  have 
fallen  in  its  cause,  and  by  attempts  that  miscarry  be¬ 
cause  they  were  untimely.  But  a  voice  from  the 
Past  (the  world’s  history)  assures  us  that  he  who 
goeth  forth  to  do  battle  for  the  right  simply  is  sure 
of  victory,  as,  although  he  should  be  himself  over¬ 
powered,  and  his  work  for  a  season  defeated,  he  has 
yet  thereby  contributed  to  the  final 
right  in  its  proper  time.” 

The  design  of  the  Almighty  is  like  that  of  the  vast 
cathedrals  of  old  at  which  many  generations  of  work¬ 
men  were  content  to  labor  in  succession ;  each  help¬ 
ing  to  carry  out  some  part  of  the  magnificent  plan, 
each  building  up  some  part  of  his  life  and  strength 
in  the  mighty  structure  whose  completion  he  could 
never  hope  to  witness.  ^ 

“  They  shall  perish,  but  thou  remainest ; 

And  they  all  shall  wax  old  as  a  garment, 

And  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou  fold  them  up, 

And  they  are  changed ; 

But  thou  art  the  same;  and  thy  years  shall  not  fail; 

The  children  of  thy  servants  shall  continue^ 

And  their  seed  shall  stand  fast  in  thy  sighV* 

- 4 - 

Note  K.  —  Page  144. 

“  \  ND  I,  my  loving  Brentius,”  writes  Luther, 
“to  the  end  that  I  may  the  better  under¬ 
stand  this  case,  do  use  to  think  in  this  manner,  name- 


triumph  of  the 


NOTES. 


169 


ly,  as  if  in  my  heart  were  no  quality  or  virtue  at  all 
which  is  called  faith  or  love,  but  I  set  all  on  Christ, 
and  say,  my  formalis  justitia,  that  is  my  sure,  my 
constant  and  complete  righteousness,  in  which  there 
is  no  want  or  failing,  but  is,  as  before  God  it  ought  to 
be,  Christ  my  Lord  and  Saviour.” 

Faith  saves  us  ;  but  how?  —  by  making  us  aware 
of  Christ,  who  saves.  Faith  does  not  make  things 
what  they  are,  but  shows  us  them  as  they  are  in 
Christ.  Certain  systems  lay  a  pressure  upon  the 
subjective  side  greater  than  the  spirit  of  man  is  at 
all  times  able  to  bear;  working  out  all  things  from 
the  depths  of  individual  consciousness,  as  if  truths 
were  not  there  at  all  until  they  are  {manifestly)  there 
for  us.  Wesley,  for  instance,  felt  and  preached 
Christ  both  freely  and  fully ;  yet,  from  the  central 
importance  his  teaching  gives  to  a  conscious  spiritual 
work  in  man,  it  tends,  in  some  degree,  to  withdraw 
the  soul’s  eye  from  Christ,  to  fix  it  upon  what  is  going 
on  within  itself. 

Happy  for  us,  if  Christ  can  look  there  and  find  his 
own  image  reflected,  however  faintly ;  but  we  must 
look  at  Him,  at  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  not  at  the  sun 
in  the  brook,  its  broken  and  ever-varying  reflection. 
So  long  as  we  are  resting  in  anything  within  our¬ 
selves,  be  it  even  in  a  work  of  grace,  there  remains, 
at  least  to  honest  hearts,  a  ground  for  continual  rest¬ 
lessness  and  continual  disappointment.  To  know  that 
we  have  nothing,  are  nothing  out  of  Christ,  is  to  know 
the  truth  which  makes  us  free. 


8 


170 


NOTES. 


Note  L.  —  Page  147. 

The  Christian’s  life  is  no  Drama  planned  to 
correspond  with  certain  prescribed  Unities  of 
time  and  situation ;  but,  because  it  is  a  life,  it  is  too 
solemn,  too  real  a  thing  to  be  bounded  by  any  such 
limitations.  The  Bible  prescribes  no  fixed  routine 
of  religious  experience,  and  I  know  not  how  to 
express  my  sense  of  the  crudity,  I  would  also  say 
cruelty,  of  such  religious  writings  as  insist  upon  cer¬ 
tain  phases  of  feeling  as  being  essential  to  every  true 
conversion  ;  thus  making  sad  the  heart  of  the  right¬ 
eous  whom  God  hath  not  made  sad.  “  The  Gods,” 
said  the  wise  Heathen,  “  give  not  all  things  to  men  at 
all  times.”  Have  Christians  yet  to  learn  that  certain 
feelings  are  only  proper,  say  rather  are  only  possible 
to  certain  stages  of  experience  ?  That  when  we  are 
able  to  receive  things  we  do  receive  them,  and  until 
then  must  be  content  to  wait,  abiding  in  the  truth, 
growing  up  in  it  from  day  to  day,  but  forcing  nothing 
either  upon  ourselves  or  others. 

How  carefully  should  we  guard  against  the  passing 
of  a  religious  truth  into  a  religious  conventionalism ! 
The  deepest  expressions  of  feeling,  as  when  St.  Paul, 
seeing  so  far  into  his  own  nature,  and  into  God’s 
purity,  is  able  to  call  himself  the  chief  of  sinners, 
become  false,  commonplace,  when  taken  up  by  those 
who  do  not  feel,  but  merely  repeat  them  —  when  they 
are  out  of  all  harmony  with  the  life  and  conscious¬ 
ness  of  the  speaker. 


NOTES. 


171 


We  may  apply  this  also  to  the  crude  admonitions 
so  often  addressed  to  afflicted  people ;  the  set  phrases 
in  which,  without  any  consideration  of  his  fitness  to 
receive  such  sayings,  the  sufferer  is  referred  to  the 
will  of  God,  the  love  of  Christ,  for  compensation. 

Yet  the  loss  of  a  felt,  experienced  good,  even 
of  an  earthly  kind,  can  only  be  made 
up  for  by  a  comfort  equally  felt 
and  experienced,  and  how 
can  that  he  a  comfort 
which  has  never 


been  a  joy 


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Barry  Cornwall’s  English  Songs  and  other 

Poems.  1  vol.  $1.00. 

“  “  Dramatic  Poems.  1  vol.  $1.00, 

Boker’s  Plays  and  Poems.  2  vols.  16mo.  Cloth. 

$2.00.. 

Brooks’s  German  Lyrics.  1  vol.  $1.00. 

“  Faust.  A  new  Translation.  1  vol.  $1.00. 
Browning’s  (Robert)  Poems.  2  vols.  $2.00. 

“  “  Men  AND  Women.  1  vol.  $1.00. 

Cary’s  (Phoebe)  Poems  and  Parodies.  1  vol.  75  cts. 
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cents. 

Fresh  Hearts  that  Failed.  By  the  Author  of  “  The 
New  Priest.”  1  vol.  50  cents. 

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Hymns  of  the  Ages.  2d  Series.  1  vol.  $1.25. 

The  Same.  8vo.  Bevelled  boards.  Each  volume,  $3.00. 
Johnson’s  (Rosa  V.)  Poems.  1  vol.  $1.00. 

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Lunt’s  (Geo.)  Lyric  Poems.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth. 

63  cents. 

“  “  Julia.  1  vol.  50  cents. 


lo  A  List  of  Books  Publifhed 


Lockhart’s  (eJ.  G.)  Spanish  Ballads.  With  Portrait. 
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cents. 

Memory  and  Hope.  A  Collection  of  Consolatory  Pieces. 
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“  Minstrelsy,  Ancient  and  Modern. 

*  2  vols.  $1.50. 

Muloch’s  (Miss)  Poems.  (By  Author  of  “  John  Hali¬ 
fax.”)  1  vol.  75  cents. 

Owen  Meredith’s  Poems.  1vol.  Blue  and  Gold.  75  cts. 
Parsons’s  Poems.  1  vol.  $1.0D. 

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60  cents. 

“  “  Lyteria  :  A  Dramatic  Poem.  50  cents. 

Read’^  (T.  Buchanan)  Poems.  New  and  complete  edi¬ 
tion.  2  vols.  $2.00. 

Rejected  Addresses.  By  Horace  and  James  Smith. 
New  edition.  1  vol.  63  cents. 

Saxe’s  (J.  G.)  Poems.  With  Portrait.  1  vol.  75  cents. 
“  “  The  Money  King  and  other  Poems. 


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“  “  Poems  —  the  two  foregoino;  vols.  in  one. 

o  o 

$1.25. 

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Portrait.  75  cents. 

Smith’s  (Alexander)  Life  Drama.  1  vol.  50  cents. 
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trait.  75  cents. 

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Thackeray’s  Ballads.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

Thalatta.  a  Book  for  the  Seaside.  1  vol.  75  cents. 
Warreniana.  1  vol.  63  cents. 


[prose.] 

Allston’s  Monaldi.  a  Tale.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth. 
75  cents. 

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SciEj^TiFic  Men.  2  vols.  16mo.  $2.00. 

Arnold’s  (Dr.  Thomas)  Life  and  Correspondence. 
Edited  by  A.  P.  Stanley.  2  vols.  12mo.  Cloth.  $2.00. 


by  Ticknor  and  Fields.  ii 


Arnold’s  (W.  D.)  Oakfield.  A  Novel.  1  vol.  16mo. 
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chester.”  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  $1.00. 

Arabian  Days’  Entertainment.  Translated  from  the 
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tator.”  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  75  cents. 

The  Same.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth,  gilt  edge.  $1.25. 

Angel  Voices  ;  or.  Words  of  Counsel  for  Over- 

COMIKG  THE  WoKLD.  1  vol.  16mo.  Clotli,  gilt,  38;  gilt 
edge,  50;  full  gilt,  63  cents. 

The  Same.  Holiday  Edition.  Tinted  paper.  50  cents. 
American  Institute  of  Instruction.  Lectures  deliv¬ 
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separate  volumes,  each  50  cents. 

Bacon’s  (Delia)  the  Siiaksperian  Problem  Solved. 
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Cloth.  $3.00. 

Bartol’s  Church  and  Congregation.  1  vol.  16mo. 
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Bailey’s  Essays  on  Opinions  and  Truth.  1  vol. 
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Barry  Cornwall’s  Essays  and  Tales  in  Prose. 
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Boston  Book.  Being  Specimens  of  Metropolitan  Litera¬ 
ture.  Cloth,  $1.25;  gilt  edge,  $1.75;  full  gilt,  $2.00. 
Buckingham’s  (J.  T.)  Personal  Memoirs.  With  Por¬ 
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Channing’s  (E.  T.)  Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  Ora¬ 
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12mo.  Cloth.  75  cents. 

Chapel  Liturgy.  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  according 
to  the  use  of  King’s  Chapel,  Boston.  1  vol.  8vo.  Sheep,  $2.00; 
sheep,  extra,  $2.50;  sheep,  extra,  gilt  edge,  $3  00;  morocco, 
$3.50;  do.  gilt  edge,  $4.00;  do,  extra  gilt  edge,  $4.50. 

The  Same.  Cheaper  edition.  1  vol.  12mo.  Sheep,  $1.50. 
Crosland’s  (Mrs.)  Lydia:  A  Woman’s  Book.  1  vol. 

75  cents. 

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Dana’s  (R.  H.)  To  Cuba  and  Back.  1  vol.  16mo 
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12  A  Li§l  of  Books  Publifhed 


Dufferin’s  (Lord)  Yacht  Voyage.  1  vol.  IGmo 
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El  Fureidis.  By  the  author  of  “The  Lamplighter.” 
1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  $1.00. 

Ernest  Carroll  ;  or,  Artist-Life  in  Italy.  1  vol. 
16mo.  Cloth.  88  cents. 

Fremont’s  Life,  Explorations,  and  Public  Ser¬ 
vices.  By  C.  W.  Upham.  With  Illustrations.  1  vol.  16mo. 
Cloth.  75  cents. 

Gaskell’s  (Mrs.)  Ruth.  A  Novel.  8vo.  Paper.  38  cts. 
Guesses  AT  Truth.  By  Two  Brothers.  1  vol.  12mo.  $1.50. 
Greenwood’s  (F.  W.  P.)  Sermons  of  Consolation. 

16mo.  Cloth,  $1.00;  cloth,  ^ilt  edge,  $1.50; 
morocco,  plain  gilt  edge,  $2.00;  morocco, 
extra  gilt  edge,  $2.50. 

“  ’  History  of  the  King’s  Chapel,  Bos¬ 

ton.  12mo.  Cloth.  50  cents. 

Hodson’s  Soldier’s  Life  in  India.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth. 

$1.00. 

Howitt’s  (William)  Land,  Labor,  and  Gold.  2  vols. 

$2.00. 

“  “  A  Boy’s  Adventures  in  Austra¬ 

lia.  75  cents. 

Howitt’s  (Anna  Mary)  An  Art  Student  in  Munich. 

$1.25. 

“  “  A  School  of  Life.  A  Story. 

75  cents. 

Hufeland’s  Art  of  Prolonging  Life.  1  vol.  16mo. 
Cloth.  75  cents. 

Jerrold’s  (Douglas)  Life.  By  his  Son.  1  vol.  16mo. 

Cloth.  $1.00. 

“  “  Wit.  By  his  Son.  1  vol.  16mo. 

Cloth.  75  cents. 

Judson’s  (Mrs.  E.  C.)  Alderbrook.  By  Fanny  For¬ 
rester.  2  vols.  $1.75. 

“  “  The  Kathayan  Slave,  and 

OTHER  Papers.  1  vol.  63  cents, 
“  “  My  two  Sisters  :  A  Sketch 

FROM  Memory.  50  cents. 

Kavanagh’s  (Julia)  Seven  Years.  8vo.  Paper.  30 
cents. 

Kingsley’s  (Henry)  Geoffry  Hamlyn.  1  vol.  12mo. 

Cloth.  $1.25. 

“  “  Ravenshoe.  1  vol.  12mo.  $1.25. 

Krapf’s  Travels  and  Researches  in  Eastern 
Africa.  1  vol.  12mo.  Cloth.  $1.25. 

Leslie’s  (C.  R.)  Autobiographical  Recollections. 
Edited  by  Tom  Taylor.  With  Portrait.  1  vol.  12mo.  Cloth. 
$1.25. 

Lake  House.  From  the  German  of  Fanny  Lewald. 
1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  75  cents. 


by  Ticknor  and  Fields.  is 


Lowell’s  (Rev.  Dr.  Charles)  Practical  Sermons. 

1  vol.  12mo.  Cloth.  $1.25. 
“  “  Occasional  Sermons. 

With  fine  Portrait.  1 
vol.  12mo.  Cloth.  $1.25. 
Light  on  the  Dark  River;  or,  Memoirs  of  Mrs. 

Hamlin.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  $1.00. 

The  Same.  16mo.  Cloth,  gilt  edge.  $1.50. 

Longfellow  (Rev.  S.)  and  Johnson  (Rev.  S.)  A  book 
of  Hymns  for  Public  and  Private  Devotion.  6th  edition. 
63  cents. 

Labor  and  Love.  A  Tale  of  English  Life.  1  vol.  16mo. 

Cloth.  50  cents. 

Lee’s  (Mrs.  E.  B.)  Memoir  of  the  Buckminsters. 

$1.25. 

“  “  Florence,  the  Parish  Orphan. 

60  cents. 

“  “  Parthenia.  1  vol.  16mo.  $1.00. 

Lunt’s  (George)  Three  Eras  in  the  History  of 
New  England.  1  vol.  $1.00. 

Mademoiselle  Mori:  A  Tale  of  Modern  Rome.  1  vol 
12rao.  Cloth.  $1.25. 

M‘Clintock’s  Narrative  of  the  Search  for  Sir 
John  Franklin.  Library  edition.  With  Maps  and  Illustra¬ 
tions.  1  vol.  small  8vo.  $1.50. 

The  Same.  Popular  Edition.  1  vol.  12mo.  75  cents. 

Mann’s  (Horace)  Thoughts  for  a  Young  Man. 

1  vol.  25  cents. 

“  “  Sermons.  1  vol.  $1.00. 

Mann’s  (Mrs.  Horace)  Physiological  Cookery-Book. 

1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  63  cents. 

“  “  The  Flower  People.  1  vol. 

Illustrated.  63  cents. 

Melville’s  Holmby  House".  A  Novel.  8vo.  Paper.  50  cts. 
Mitford’s  (Miss)  Our  Village.  Illustrated.  2  vol.s. 

16mo.  $2.50. 

“  “  Atherton,  and  other  Stories. 

1  vol.  16mo.  $1.25. 

Morley’s  Life  of  Palissy  the  Potter.  2  vols.  16mo. 
Cloth.  $1.50'. 

Mountford’s  Thorpe.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  $1.00. 
Norton’s  (C.  E.)  Travel  and  Study  in  Italy.  1  vol. 
16mo.  Cloth.  76  cents. 

New  Testament.  A  very  handsome  edition,  fine  paper 
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morocco,  plain,  $2.50 ;  do.  gilt  edge,  $3.00. 

Otis’s  (Mrs.  H.  G.)  The  Barclays  of  Boston.  1  vol 

Cloth.  $1.25. 

Parsons’s  (Theophilus)  Life.  By  his  Son.  1  vol.  12mo. 
Cloth.  $1.50. 


14  A  Li§l  of  Books  Publifhed 


Prescott’s  History  of  the  Electric  Telegraph. 

Illustrated.  1  vol.  12mo.  Cloth.  $1.75. 

Poorp:’s  (Ben  Perley)  Louis  Philippe.  1  vol.  12mo. 
.-.Cloth.  $1.00. 

Phillips’s  Elementary  Treatise  on  Mineralogy. 
With  numerous  additions  to  the  Introduction.  By  Francis  Al¬ 
ger.  With  numerous  Engravings.  1vol.  New  edition  in  press. 
Prior’s  Life  of  Edmund  Burke.  2  vols.  16mo.  Cloth. 
$2.00. 

Rab  and  his  Friends.  By  John  Brown,  M.  D.  Illus¬ 
trated.  15  cents. 

Sala’s  Journey  Due  North.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  $1.00. 
Scott’s  (Sir  Walter)  Ivanhoe.  In  one  handsome  vol¬ 
ume.  $1.75. 

Sidney’s  (Sir  Philip)  Life.  By  Mrs.  Davis.  1  vol. 
Cloth.  $1.00. 

Shelley  Memorials.  Edited  by  the  Daughter-in-law 
of  the  Poet.  1  vol.  16mo.  75  cents. 

Sword  and.  Gown.  By  the  Author  of  “  Guy  Living- 
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Shakspear’s  (Captain  H.)  Wild  Sports  of  India. 
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Semi-Detached  House.  A  Novel.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth. 
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Smith’s  (William)  Thorndale  ;  or,  The  Conflict 
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Sumner’s  (Charles)  Orations  and  Speeches.  2  vols. 
16mo.  Cloth.  $2.50. 

St.  John’s  (Bayle)  Village  Life  in  Egypt.  2  vols.  16mo. 
Cloth.  $1.25. 

Tyndall’s  (Professor)  Glaciers  of  the  Alps.  With 
Illustrations.  1  vol.  Cloth.  $1.50. 

Tyll  Owlg lass’s  Adventures.  With  Illustrations  by 
Crowqulll.  1  vol.  Cloth,  gilt.  $2.50. 

The  Sand-Hills  of  Jutland.  By  Hans  Christian  An¬ 
dersen.  1  vol.  16mo.  75  cents. 

The  Solitary  of  Juan  Fernandez.  By  the  Author  of 
“Picciola.”  1vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  50  cents. 

True  Womanhood.  A  Novel.  By  John  Neal.  1  voL 
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Tuckerman’s  Poems.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

Taylor’s  (Henry)  Notes  from  Life.  1  vol.  16mo. 
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Trelawny’s  Recollections  of  Shelley  and  Byron. 
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Warren’s  (Dr.  John  C.)  Life.  By  Edward  Warren, 

M.  2  vols.  8vo.  $3.50. 

“  The  Preservation  of  Health. 

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Wallis’s  (S.  T.)  Spain  and  her  Institutions.  1  vol. 
6mo.  Cloth.  $1.00 


by  Ticknor  and  Fields. 


15 


Williams’s  (Dr.  H.  W.)  Diseases  of  the  Eye.  1  vol. 
$1.50. 

Wordsworth’s  (William)  Biography.  By  Dr.  Chris¬ 
topher  Wordsworth.  2  vols.  lOmo.  Cloth.  $2.50. 
Wensley:  a  Story  without  a  Moral.  1  vol.  IGmo. 

Paper.  50  cents. 

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In  Blue  and  Gold, 

Longfellow’s  Poetical  Works.  2  vols.  $1.75. 

“  Prose  Works.  2  vols.  $1.75. 

Tennyson’s  Poetical  Works.  2  vols.  $1.50. 
Whittier’s  Poetical  Works.  2  vols.  $1.50. 

Leigh  Hunt’s  Poetical  Works.  2  vols.  $1.50. 
Gerald  Massey’s  Poetical  Works.  1  vol.  75  cents. 
Mrs.  Jameson’s  Characteristics  of  Women.  75  cts. 
“  Diary  of  an  Ennuyee.  1  vol.  75  cts. 

“  Loves  of  the  Poets.  1  vol.  75  cts. 

“  Sketches  of  Art,  &c.  1  vol.  75  cts. 

“  Studies  and  Stories.  1  vol.  75  cts. 

“  Italian  Painters.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

“  Legends  of  the*  Madonna.  1  vol. 

75  cents. 

Owen  Meredith’s  Poems.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

“  Lucile  :  A  Poem.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

Bowring’s  Matins  and  Vespers.  1  vol.  75  cents. 
Lowell’s  (  J.  Russell)  Poetical  Works.  2  vols.  $1.50. 
Percival’s  Poetical  Works.  2  vols.  $1.75. 
Motherwell’s  Poems.  1vol.  75  cents. 

Sydney  Dobell’s  Poems.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

William  Allingham’s  Poems.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

Horace.  Translated  by  Theodore  Martin.  1  vol.  75  cts. 
Saxe’s  Poetical  Works.  With  Portrait.  1  vol.  75  cents. 
Clough’s  Poetical  Works.  1  vol.  75  cents. 

Works  Lately  Published. 

Sir  Thomas  Browne’s  Writinc^s.  A  New  and  Elegant 
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tian  Morals,”  &c.  With  fine  Portrait.  1vol.  $1.50. 

Spare  Hours.  By  John  Brown,  M.  D.  1  vol.  $1.50. 

Memoirs,  Letters  and  Remains  of  Alexis  De 
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Margret  Howth:  A  story  of  To-Day.  1  vol.  16mo. 
75  cents. 


i6  A  Li§l  of  Books  Publifhed. 


Works  Lately  Published. 

The  New  Gymnastics.  By  Dio  Lewis,  M.  D.  With 
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The  Golden  Hour.  By  M.  D.  Conway,  Author  of  “  The 
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Sermons  Preached  in  Harvard  Chapel.  By  James  Walker, 
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Edwin  of  Deira.  By  Alexander  Smith,  Author  of  “  A 
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The  Autobiography,  Letters,  and  Literary  Ee- 
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The  Life  and  Career  of  Major  John  Andre.  By 
Winthrofx  Sargent.  1  vol.  $1.50.  ^ 

The  Sable  Cloud.  By  Nehemiah  Adams,  D.  D.,  Author 
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Faithful  Forever.  By  Coventry  Patmore,  Author  of 
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Over  thE  Cliffs  :  A  Novel.  By  Charlotte  Chanter, 
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The  Recreations  of  a  Country  Parson.  2  vols. 
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Leisure  Hours  in  Town.  By  the  “  Country  Parson.” 
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Reminiscences  of  Scottish  Life  and  Character. 
By  Dean  Ramsay.  From  4he.  Seventh  Enlarged  Edinburgh 
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Poems  by  Rev.  Wm.  Croswell,  D.  D.  Edited,  with  a 
Memoir,  by  Rev.  Arthur  Cleveland  Coxe,  D.  D.  1  vol.  $1.00. 

Personal  History  of  Lord  Bacon.  From  Original 
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Poems.  By  Rose  Terry.  1  vol.  16mo.  75  cents. 

The  Autobiography  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Alexander 
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Favorite  Authors:  A  Companion  Book  of  Prose  and 
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Heroes  of  Europe.  A  capital  Boy’s  Book.  With  16 
Illustrations.  1  vol.  16mo.  $1.00. 

Bonnie  Scotland.  By  Grace  Greenwood.  Illustrated. 
75  cents. 

The  Seven  Little  Sisters,  who  live  in  the  Round  Ball 
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